SPUN-YARN 

From Old Nantucket 




EDITED BY R S. WYER 







, 1' 



SPUN-YARN 

From Old Nantucket 



Consisting mainly of extracts from books now out of print, 
with a few additions. 




Edited and Published by H. S. WYER. 



NANTUCKET: 

THE INQUIRER AND MIRROR PRESS. 

1914. 



■IS I 



Copyright 1914 
HENRY S. WYER 



uUN "4-4314 



©CI,A374341 



TO BEGIN WITH: 

During several years pasl the plan of this book has slowly 
evolved itself in my consciousness, only recently taking definite 
form. 

The fact that many of the books from which I have used 
extracts are now out of print (and others soon will be) with 
little probability of reprints, has seemed to emphasize the need 
of a volume of this character, it has been my aim to select 
from each such passages as best combine literary merit with 
historical interest and local color. 

To these extracts have been added certam anecdotes and 
poems by various authors. 

It is my belief that these selections, being thus associated, 
will impress readers as a series of graphic pictures of Nantuck- 
et's bygone days; of the eventful lives of her people on land 
and sea; of their humor and pathos — their romance. 

1 acknowledge my indebtedness to the Houghton, Mifflin 
Co. for privileges granted in "Qyamt Nantucket, " to the Loth- 
rop, Lee and Shepard Co. in "Whales We Caught, " and to 
Mrs. Arthur Macy for poem on last page. 

H. S. W. 

Nantucket, May 3. 1914. 



To My Friends of Hinckley Lane. 



SPUN-YARN 

From Old Nantucket. 

Edited by H. S. Wyer. 

CONTENTS. 

The Mother Isle. '>,, ll. s. Waer 

FROM "MIRIAM COFFIN, or THE WHALE-FISHERMEN," 

Hil Jos. C. ILn-t. Page 

Introduction, 9 

Benjamin Tashima, 22 

Miriam's Town and Country Houses, 28 

The Shearing, 39 

The Dance in the Loft, 50 

Race After the Whale, 67 

The Fight with Cannibals, 81 

Whaling in the Pacific, I 04 

The Downfall of Miriam, 1 1 8 

FROM "QUAINT NANTUCKET," 

lln Wm. U. i:r,ss. 

The Missionary from Boston, 1 42 

Sea-Journals and Sea-Rovers, 1 52 

AN ACCOUNT OF THE NANTUCKET INDIANS. 

liii Zac<lieas Mary. 

Zaccheus Macy's Letter, 1 80 

FROM TRUSTUM AND HIS GRANDCHILDREN. 

/Ill lliiri'K't /!. Worn,,'. 

The Shearing Festival, I 88 

A Wedding, 222 

The Outfitting, 226 

A Skilled Pilot, 230 

A Business-like Proposal, 2 3 1 

In War Time. 233 

The Leaders, 235 



Page 



THE FIRST TEA PARTY (An Idyl from Nantucket). 


236- 


Anoni/mou.s. 




THERE SHE BLOWS! or WHALES WE CAUGHT. 




/;*/ 11'//-. Iliis'<f:!i ^f,u■y. 




Youth's First Voyage, 


245 


Over the Bar, 


256 


The First Whale, 


268 


SEA-GIRT NANTUCKET. 




Hy 11. S. Wijur. 




Nantucket in the Revolution, 


279 


Nantucket in War of 1812, 


286 


Mrs. McCleave and Her Museum, 


289 


SCRAPS. 




A Master Mariner, ''// // N. it //e/'. 


292 


"Fee-rash Feesh," '^u H. .S. iT'w/-. 


297 


Humors of Election Day, ''// //. *'. ll>er. 


301 


Ship's Bill of Fare, 


303 


VERSE. 




A Qyaker Victory, ^." ^l ^- ".'"''■• 


304 


The Alarmed Skipper, hij Jus r. F'ulds. 


306 


The Harper, by Ihus. F Brif/f/s. 


308 


Sit Closer, Friends, by Arthur ila<-y. 


3ia 



THE MOTHER ISLE. 

Set like a jewelled crescent rare 

Amid the encircling seas, 
There is an island realm more fair 

Than charmed Hesperides. 

From Spring's first breath upon her plains 

To Autumn's Imgering hours, 
In royal robes the Matron reigns 

And crown of myriad flowers. 

Far-wandering winds forever haunt 

Her heath-clad moorlands lone, 
Around her shores the wild waves chaunt 

Their mournful monotone. 

Loved faces come to her in dreams 

Their voices charm her ears, 
And all her daily burden seems 

A tale of bygone years. 

O, Mother Isle, though far apart 

On alien land or sea. 
We hear the message of thy heart 

That calls us back to thee! 

H. S. W. 



SPUN-YARN 
FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 



CHAPTER 1 . 

From Miriam Coffin — Introduction. 

In a spcluded (|Uiirt»'r of the ishiiKl of Xantiicicet, 
known l)y the name of tSiasconset. there lived, a 
few years sinee. a singular being', whose mode of 
life, for several previous years, had been a mystery 
to everyl)ody. To this individual, howevei'. we had 
been direeted for infornuition on a point embraced 
in our investigations, respecting the state of tlie 
Avhale-fishery as connected with Nantucket. He had 
been represented by the people of tlie town as pos- 
sessing a remarkably retentive memory,— particu- 
larly in what related to the early history of the 
island; and also that he was possessed of large stores 
of accurate statistical and historical infornuition. 
whicli he had lieen many yeai's in collecting and 
arranging: and furtliermorc it was reported, that in 
liis person one might discover a walking genealogical 
tree, whose leaves and In-anches. so to speak, would 
unfold tlie birth. ])arentage and education of every 
resident of the island, from the djiys of the first 
settlers downwards to the time present. 

There are now some three or four score houses at 
Siasconset. of one st(»r\- and a h;df in height, erected 



10 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

on th«^ margin of a high sand-bluff overh^oking the 
sea. Some of these are very old. and built after a 
peculiar fashion which prevailed all over the island 
during the early part of the last century. It was 
then a small village, inhabited by poor fishermen, 
and the huts we speak of were their domicils. Lat- 
terly, however, these huts have been turned into 
summer residences for the wealthier townspeople; — 
and right pleasant lounging places do they make 
for those who have leisure to enjoy them. If any of 
our readers should feel curious to see the style of 
building that prevailed one hundred years ago in the 
town which has since assumed the name of Nan- 
tucket, let him now pay a visit to Siasconset, and 
enter its dwellings. He will there see how, of 
old, every inch of room was economized, and how 
sleeping chambers were scaled l)y perpendicular 
step-ladders, like those used to descend to the pent- 
up cabin of a fishing smack, or to clamber up the 
sides of a merchantman ; — and how the best and 
most spacious room in the house is finished like the 
cabin of a ship, with projecting beams, whose cor- 
ners are beaded and ornamented with rude carving, 
while the walls are wairiscotted with unpaiiited 
I)anel work, and the oaken floors have grown alike 
brown by time. and~smtM»th by a century's use. 
There is but one house in the whole village which 
makes modern pi-etension to fashionable exterior. 
It is the only innovation uj)on the unity — the ancient 
''Iff ping" of the place; — and its jn'ojector deserves 
banishment under the wise provisions of the time- 
honoured "Laws of 'Sconsfi,'' for ])resuniing to make 



MIRIAM COFFIN - INTRODUCTION. 1 1 

any change in the architecture of the settlement. 

It was our fortune to make a pilgrimage to Sia- 
sconset at that season of the year Avhen its houses 
were tenantless, — its d^r^^erted avenues choked up 
with sombre and lifeless thistles and decayed long 
grass, — and all as still as the grave. Threading 
w^ith uncertainty its narrow and silent lanes, in 
search of the habitation of the veteran, we came at 
length to a hut before whose door stood a car of 
fish, which had been recently caught and wheeled up 
from the shore. The chimney top. too, gave evidence 
of civilization and of the whereabout of humanity. 
A stream of blue smoke issued forth and briskly 
curled up in the clear atmosphere. The sight of the 
iish. jumping and floundering about in the little car, 
and the lively jet of smoke overhead, was as w'el- 
come to us. at the moment, as a house of ''entertain- 
ment for man and beast'' would be to a traveller in 
the desert, or to a virtuoso, without corn in his 
scrip, exploring the mysteries and anti(|uities of a 
city of the dead. AVe tapped lightly on the closed 
door of the hut, and repeated the signal more than 
once: — but no answer from the indweller bade us 
welcome to the hospitalities of 'Sconset. 

"This is strange!" thought we. — "very strange, 
in a land proverbially celebrated for the open door 
and the open hand!" 

A thirst after knowledge, and a stomach yearning 
fearfully for a morsel from the frying-pan or the 
fish pot, gave us the courage of desperation: and 
thereupon we lifted the latch of the door, — for lock 
or bolt, or other fastening, there was none. — and 



12 SPUN- YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

entered boldly into the. main apartment of tin- liouse. 
There we stood for the sjiace of some minutes, 
silently contemplating the furniture and appoint- 
ments of the place. It was clear that the hand of 
woman had not been there for many a day. tliough 
it was evident, from the arrangement of pots and 
kettles, and platters and frying-pans, that attempts 
had been made," if not with female neatness, at any 
rate with manly clumsiness and good will, to pre- 
serve a degree of cleanliness that was creditable to 
the owner of the mansion. Over the rude mantel 
hung an old-fashioned, turnip-shaped, silver watch, 
ticking loudly, and striving on in its daily race with 
the sun; and against the still ruder partition, which 
separated the larger room from a closet or small 
sleeping apartment, hung a heavy fowling-piece of 
luost caj)acious bore: while underneath depended a 
well-worn shot-bag. and a powder-flask of semi- 
transparent horn. Around the room, somewhat in 
confusion, the implements of piscatory warfare Avere 
visible. Scap-nets and fishing-lines, of various sizes 
and lengths, wet from recent use. were spread over 
the backs of chairs to dry, and indicated that their 
owner had but lately come from an excursion upon 
the sea. 

There was no helj^ for us but to sit down and 
quietly await the approach of the nuister. an<l the 
is.sue of our adventure. On coming to this very 
uatural' conclusion, we drew the only chair A\hich 
was disengaged towards the engulling tirepiace, 
and essayed to correct the chilled atmosphere of the 
room, by feeding the decaying fire with billets from 



MIRIAM COFFIN- INTRODUCTION. 13 

a .sin;ill heap of ])re|)are(l Avudd piled in tlie eoruer, 
"vvliieh. from certain appearances, had been u:athered 
along the beach, and had once formed a part of some 
TUifortnnate vessel \vre(d\ed u|)on the shoals of the 
island. 

There we sat. punching the tire with the tongs, 
and watching the sparks "prone to tly upwards," 
and wondering wliere all this would end. A dreamy 
sort of abstraction came over our facultic^s; and in 
this secluded spot we almost l)egan to fancy that we 
were alone in the world. We felt some of those 
sensations creeping ui)on its. which one might sup- 
pose the last mail would feel, wlio had seen all gen- 
erations pass into the grave. — leaving him the sole 
tenant of the earth. The crooke<l legs and claw- 
feet of the littl'^ old-fashioned cherry table multi- 
plied a thousand fold in number and in crookedness, 
till we almost fancied it a huge creeping thing, wnth 
the legs and arms and claws of a dragon. 

Presently an agonized groan escaped fi'om the 
chest of some sufiferer near at hand, and invaded the 
deep silence of the place. — whicli before had been 
rendered doubly painful by the distant monotonous 
roar of the surf, rolling and tumbling in ujion the 
beach. We droj)ped the tongs in aft'i'ight: and 
mechanically sjjringing upon onr feet, we were in 
the act of rushing forth from the cabin, to avoid the 
perturbed ghost which onr imagination had con- 
jured up to hannt the place withal. 

■'^Vho's there!" said a loud voice that appeared 
to come from the cockloft. 

The charm was at once broken bv the utterance of 



14 SPUN- YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

these words in the vernaeular tongue, and our 
nervous sensations gave way before the idea of the 
utter ridiculousness of running away under such 
circumstances. We had always longed for solitude, 
— for "a lodge in some vast wilderness." — ^but that 
charm, too, was broken ; and we believed, in our very 
souls, that we had had enough of the eternal silence, 
which is too often hankered after by the "mind 
diseased." 

"Henceforth." said we mentally, "give us the 
hum and the bustle of the world, and the sprightly 
chat of intimacy: — Solitude! — thus do we l)]ow thee 
to the winds I" 

We answered the hail from aloft, nothing loath ; 
and begged the host to come down, as we had 
walked full seven miles to see and converse with 
him upon matters with which he was i*eputed to be 
familiar. The burly form of the man now darkened 
the aperture above, and he descended the step- 
ladder, with his back toward us. holding on for 
safety and letting himself down with both hands by 
two knotted cords, — such as are thrown over at the 
gang-way of a man of war. to aid the descent into 
the tiny cutter alongside. As he stood confronting 
us, we could not fail to observe that he must have 
seen many winters and some hardships. Ilis face 
was much weather-beaten, and his head, bald in 
some spots, was here and there covered with long 
and thin tufts of whitey-grayish locks, standing up 
and streaming out in admirable confusion. Deep 
boots, resembling fire-buckets, together with dral> 
small-clothes, encased his legs; while his upper gar- 



MIRIAM COFFIN- INTRODUCTION. 1 5 

nieiits were covered over with a hii^fe shaggy 
A\'rapper. which sailors call a monkey-jacket. lie 
looked at us keenly for a moment; but tiiiditig liis 
■craft fairly l)oarde(l and in possession of the enemy, 
he deigned to offer ns a scat, and to ntter an excuse 
for his absence by telling us that he had sought rest 
in his chamber after the fatigues of his late excur- 
sion, ^loreover. he explained the cause of his fear- 
ful groaning, by giving a graphic portrait of the 
iiend-like nightmare which the falling of the tongs 
had scared away from his breast. We did not, upon 
the whole, find our comjianion as morose as Ave liad 
been led to believe, by the description given to ns 
of his habits. At any rate, he gradually became 
familiar, and undertook to find out for us, heaven 
knows by w^hat intricate process, a collateral descent 
from the "great Trustutn Coffin;" and, perhaps, to 
this circumstance, more than to any other, are we 
indebted for the favours, both of speech and manu- 
script, which he afterwards bountifully showered 
upon us. 

"Odd's-fish!" exclaimed he of the monkey-jacket, 
hreaking in upon a long historical descent, in the 
mazes of which he had involved himself while an- 
swering a casual question of ours; "Odd's-fish! — 
thou must have fasted sufficiently well by this late 
hour; and I will defer giving the remainder of the 
information which thou hast demanded, until our 
frugal meal is prepared and discu.ssed. I have but 
few luxuries, friend — what didst call thy name?" 

''Thompson, sir," said we at a venture, feeling for 
the present a desire to preserve our incognito. 



16 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

■'Thompson, is it.' — I tlioujirlit Ihou saidst but uoav 
it was Jenkins." 

"Thompson, sir — a relative of the Jenkinses by 
the mother's side." 

"Ah — well — I have but few luxuries, friend 
Thompson, to otfer thee in this mine Innnble abode; 
but if. peradventure thou art fond of fish, and l)ring- 
est a good appetite I will prepare thee siieh a dish 
as the townspeople can scarcely make Avithout resort 
to 'Sconset. " Whereupon our companion selected 
a large fish from his car, and in a trice disrobed it 
of its scales and disembowelled the intestines; — 
while in order to gain some little credit for skill in 
culinary handy-work, and furthermore to convince 
him that we knew how to accommodate ourself to 
circumstances, (or that, in the words of a Jonathan 
in the east, "while in Turkey we could do as the 
Turkeys did,") we seized upon a bucket and filled it 
with the purest of water at the village pump; — and 
then we kindled up the fire anew% and made all 
things ready for the accommodation of the dinner- 
pot. 

In due time, but not a minute too soon, a savoury 
dish of chowder came upon the table: and, such is 
the force of a good appetite, we did think that in all 
our life before we had never swallowed provender 
half so delicious. But let that pass: — The reader, 
whose mouth waters, must go to 'Sconset for liis 
chowder, if he would, like unto us. enjoy a superla- 
tive luxury compounded of simples. 

As the clam-shell dipper which had come and 
gone full oft between our pewter platters and the 



MIRIAM COFFIN-INTRODUCTION. 17 

chowder pan, rested from its labours, the host 
I)ushed back his chair. Whereupon, lighting his 
pipe, and coming to an anchor in his easy chair in 
the corner, he cast his eyes np towards the Avell- 
smoked roof in a sort of thinking reverie, and at last 
broke silence as follows : 

''As I was telling thee, friend Tompkins, the 
island that now bears the name of Nantucket, whose 
JKirren ])Iaiiis tlmu luist crossed in coming hither, 
was once a well wooded and well watered garden- 
spot. It was owing to the improvidence, or perhaps 
I might better say. to the lack of foresight of our 
ancestors, tliat every tree of native growtli, save one 
or two little clnmi)s of oak. hath disa])peared from 
the face of our land. It is melancholy to think on't 
— for I love the sight of trees. The soil, however, 
friend Timpkins, as thou may'st have observed, is 
not altogether as sterile as the world in general 
imagine. But the cry of tlie "satul heap' luitli gone 
out against us: — and herein I would say something 
to thee about evil speaking; — but of that hereafter, 
if we have time. 

"To make a long story short, friend Timson.'' con- 
tinued the narrator, "I will give thee merely the 
outline of our history, which, as time and o])por- 
tunity serve, thou may'st fill up at leisure. Nay — 
do not interrupt me — I will answer thee more at 
large npon any point thou may'st propose, when my 
sketch is finished. Being a stranger here, it may 
profit thee to know, that for a long time after the 
cession of the colony of New- York to Lord Stirling, 
the island of Nantucket, as well as all other islands 



18 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

of that distinct colony. It came to pass, liowever, 
that by peaceable negotiation. ^Massachusetts ob- 
tained dominion over the islands upon her shore, and 
Block Island fell to the lot of the Providence Planta- 
tions ; while Long Island, with which Nature had 
defended the shore of Connecticut, continued the 
appendage of New- York. 

"Touching the manner in wliich Nantucket was 
settled by tlie whites. I have authority for tleclaring 
that it Avas l)rought about by accident, as it were, 
and under peculiar circumstances. AVe. Avho are 
natives of the island, trace our descent to the 
on the Northern coast, were claimed as dependencies 
Seeeders, or rather to the Non-Conformists who 
dwelt in the Eastern i)art of the ^Massachusetts. 
They were i)rincipally of the Baptist persuasion: 
and. in ancient times, they were persecuted and 
hunted down b\' their Puritanic bi'ethren. for 
opinion's sake. I>y one of those strange incon- 
sistencies incident to human luiture. the Puritans 
upon the main, who had themselves been the ol)jects 
of persecution in England, began the sanu^ infamous 
and brutal career of intolerance in America, by 
establishing a code of revolting laws, which woubl 
have put a Ilerod to tlic ])lush. I thaid\ (iod. m\- 
friend, that / am not (h'scended from that aIIc 
fanatical race. Let others boast, if they \\ill. of their 
Puritanic hh)od. — iiiiin knows not the contamina- 
tion !" 

Here my (M)m|)anion cose from his chair, and 
opeiu'd a tohaccD-chtset in the chimney si(b'. I'rom 



MIRIAM COFFIN-INTRODUCTION. 19 

"svlieiiee he produced a Avell-thutnbed volume, and 
read as follows : 

"No Quaker, or dissenter from the Avorship of the 
established dominion, shall be allowed to give a vote 
for the election of magistrates, or any officer. 

"No food or lodging shall be afforded a Quaker, 
Adamite, or other heretic. 

"If any person turns Quaker, he shall be banished, 
and not suffered to return but on pain of death. 

"No Roman Catholic priest shall abide in the 
dominion; he shall be l)anished. and suffer death on 
liis return." 

"Such, my friend," continued our host, "were the 
laAvs of the Cameronians; and to their existence may 
l)e attributed the settlement of Nantucket, as thon 
wilt presently see. Al)out the year 1 ().")!)-(;(). ^\■hile 
these and other fiend-like enactments were in force 
in the eastern section of the present United States. 
one Thomas JMacy. a Baptist. Avho had come from 
England some twenty years previous, in search aftm' 
a peaceful habitation in (uir Western Avilds. and Avho 
liad settled among the Puritans at Salisbury in 
the IMassachnsetts. committed a crying sin against 
the laws of the wrathful Cromwellites or Rluesk-ins. 
And Avhat think 'st thon it was! lie had dared to 
shelter some forlorn and houseless Quakers in his 
barn one tempestuous night; and for that oft'ence 
was he doomed, by the Puritanic Roundheads, to 
undergo the signal punishment of stripes at the 
whipping-post! Before the day of its infliction ar- 
rived, he procured an open lioat. or yaAvl. and Avith 
tAvo companions. EdAvard Starbuck and a youth by 



20 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

tile iiiiiiK' ol' Isaac Coleman, he lauiiehed forth upon 
an unknown sea. — declaring that he would pull his 
bar<iue to the ends of the earth, sooner than dwell 
longer among beings so uncharitable and intolerant. 

"^lacy and his friends arrived at Nantucket, 
where before the white man had never dwelt. At 
that time two hostile tribes of Indians inhabited op- 
posite ends of the island, numbering altogether some 
three thousand souls. The new comers were re- 
ceived with kindness b\' the natives; and they ob- 
tained a great but lionest intiuence over their coun- 
cils. Thus commenced the settlement of Nantucket 
l\v the whites; aiul in the following year one Thomas 
Mayhew. having obtained a grant of the island from 
Lord Stirling, conveyed it, in fee. to ten ])roprietors, 
each of whom chose an associate from among his 
brother 'lu'retics;' and the Avhole com])any of 
twenty, with their ])ersecuted families, immediately 
thereafter took ])osst'ssioii ;is proprietoi's in com- 
mon." 

Our companion hci'ciipon ])ulled forth a slip of 
paper from a long-worn pocket-book, from which we 
took the liberty of transcribing the names of the 
original settlers of the island. Although some of 
the names are now extinct, we would preserve the 
remainder, if possible, to their posterity. Their in- 
dustry, single-mindedness and perseverance are 
worthy of the admii-ation and the imitation of their 
descendants. 

Tlie firtit ten. Their as.sociaics. 

Thomas Mayhew, John Smith, 

Thomas Mar-y, Edward Starbuck, 



MIRIAM COFFIN" INTRODUCTION. 



21 



Tristram Coffin. 
Thomas Barnard, 
Peter Coffin, (son 

tram,) 
Christian Ilussey, 
Stephen Greenleaf, 
John Swain. 
William Pile, 
Eichard Swain. 



Xath "1. Starbuek, (son of 
EdwM.,) 
of Tris- Kobert Barnard, 

James Coffin, (brother of 

Peter,) 
Roliert I*ike, 
Tristram Coffin, jr., 
Thomas Coleman, 
Nathaniel Bolton, 
Thomas Losk. 



Finishing the transcript of those venerahle names, 
we handed back to our comi)anion the original list. 
He took the paper between his finger and thumb, 
and ■with his nail resting on the third name from the 
top. he remarked, with a glow of pride, that the 
direct descendants of the senior Tristram Coffin had 
been computefl at tlie enormous number of tw(Mity- 
five thousand I — A prolific progenitor, and a goodly 
posterity, truly. 



'21 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 



CHAPTER II. 

Benjamin Tashima, Indian Minister and Teacher. 
{Grandson of Sachem Autopscot.) 

Let us enter the humble Indian sehool-house. The 
introduction of the strangers Avas made by ]\lanta 
to the venerable Benjamin Tashima ; and they were 
at once struck with his dignified manner and the 
commanding intelligence of his features. There was 
very little in them, except the swarthy colour of the 
skin. Avhicli betrayed the Indian. But for this, and 
the prominent cheek-bones, and the deep sunken 
eyes, the caste would not have been diseoverable. 
Thougli of the true breed, and in his youth a wihl 
ranger of a continental forest, subsequent education, 
and conformity to the habits of civilization had 
wrought an agrecal^le change in his ])erson and (h^- 
meanonr. He had long been looked up to as the- 
father of the tribe, which was now a fast-fading 
remnant. The last children of the race were before 
him; and, like a good man and a good Christian, he 
was endeavouring to smooth the way of their des- 
tiny, lie was their laAvgiver, their preacher, and 
their school-master. He inculcated, both by precept 
and examjile, sountl morality and the religion of the 
Saviour of mankind. He was honest and benevolent ; 
charita])le and humane. His peoi)le loved him, and 
feared his disi)leasin-e. By his persuasion, the bane 
of the Indian race was banished from the litth' ham- 



MIRIAM COFFIN- BENJAMIN TASHIMA. 23 

let, and a drunkard was only seiiii at long intervals. 
Industry was eneouraged, and always met with its 
reward. It is difficult, however, to ehange the skin 
of the Ethiopinii; and it did, sometimes, happen that 
the dogged and loose propensities of the Indian 
would break forth as of yore. Sullen laziness, 
drunkenness. ])etty theft, and cowjirdly violence — 
inherent qualities of the rac(^ — would i)revail for a 
time among a few of the more dissolute ; but the 
correcting hand of the old chief was instantly laid 
upon them, and the salutary discipline of the whale- 
ship was their punishment. A h)ng life of vigilance 
and kindness he had devoted to the tribe: seventy 
winters had already j^assed over the head of the 
venerable Tashima. and he lirid. in the time, seen 
generation after generation of his people pass away. 
His red companions had dropped one by one around 
him, and none came t(» supply their places. Tht; 
good old man felt melancholy at the sure indications 
of withering decay, which had caused his people to 
dwindle to a mere handful of the once terrible lords 
of the AmericHu forest. Icjiving him lo stand. — 
solitary and alone, without the prospect of succes- 
sioji. — like the riven iind nnitilated trunk where the 
blasting hurricane had been busy. The LAST CHIEF 
of a once great and powerful nation was here: and 
but little more than half a c(Mitury was destined to 
see the total extinguishment of the island race! 

A portion of the industrious life of Tashima luul 
been devote<l t<» study: and he had succeeded, with 
intinite labour, in adapting his literary acquirements 
to the language and ca])acity of his tribe. Tie h;ul 



24 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

iKHirislied tlie vain hope of preserving the nation 
without a cross in its blood, and the hmguage of his 
people in its pristine i)urity. It was a magnificent 
conception! The design was worthy of the last, as 
he was the greatest, chief of the tribe. He Avas the 
last, because none succeeded him ; he was the great- 
est, for he was the most benevolent. 

Seated before him, in his little wigwam school- 
room, were some twenty Indian boys and girls. A 
gleam of intelligence shot from their dark eyes, 
Avhich si)oke nothing of the savage glare that is so 
remarkable a trait in the wild Indian when agitated 
or enraged; and it was equally unlike his stupid, 
lack-lustre eye when at rest. It Avas plain that "the 
schoolmaster had been abroad"' among the trilx-. 
Each of the little urchins was provided with a con- 
venient board ui>on which a i)aper had Iteen ]»ast('<l. 
containing numerous combinations of words in tlie 
Indian tongue. These were illustrated l)y sensible 
signs or pictures. This method of delineation was ;in 
elaboration of a mode of expression ali'eady in use 
among the tribes of the interior. Avho. in all their 
treaties with the French and English, and. of later 
years, Avith the Ihiited States. dreAV. for their signa- 
ture, the outline of some animal, or other object, 
Avhich the\- had ado])ted for their title. ThiTs the 
"Blade Tfaivl-," whose depredations upon oui' fron- 
tiers. Avith less tlwui five hundred f(>lloA\'ers. have re- 
cently called forth the merited cluistisement of our 
government (in a campaign which has cost us more 
than a million of d(^llars, and a saeritiee of tAvo nuMi 
for every live Indian.) — makes his nuirk by the 




S c -a 
a ea V 




MIRIAM COFFIN-BENJAMIN TASHIMA. 25 

strung- outline of a poiuieing vulture; the "Cjreat 
Snake," by a coiled viper, &e. It may be apposite 
here to remark, that Bell, the contemporary and 
successful rival of Lancaster, took the hint of his 
plan from an inspection of similar modes of convey- 
ing instruction in India, where the pictorial method 
of teaching has been in use time out of mind. 

The characters adopted by Tashinui for the in- 
struction of his i)upils. were, in addition to his pic- 
tures, the Koman letters; and the alphal)et. so lar as 
it was necessary for conveying Indian sounds, was 
substantially the same as our own. The combina- 
tions of letters were, hoAvever. quite remarkable, and 
exhibited frequent groupings of the vowel sounds. 
The letter 0, in duplicate, and even triplicate con- 
secutive arrangement, frequently occurred in tlu' 
lessons, and was perceptible in the deei) guttnral 
sounds which predominated in the language of 
Tashima. The utterance of tlu* Indian is slow, bnt 
by no means sonorous or agreeable: yet the voice of 
the female, when giving vent to feelings of adniii"a- 
tion or of plcasiu'e. Avilj sometimes ascend into a 
modulated allu, that falls (jnite musically npon the 
ear. 

Tashinui "s unnierons books nnd lessons were all in 
manuscript; and it is to be regretted that the 
printer Avas never called in to aid in their ])reserva- 
tion. They would have furnished delicious niorceaii.i: 
for the literary wranglers ami philologists of the 
present day; but. at the time avc write of. a printing- 
press was unknown at Nantucket. Even in Boston, 
Avhich some of its people still insist upon calling the 



26 SPUN- YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

'' Litei'iiry Enipdi-ium. "" that perseverijig i)i'iuter, 
Henjamiii Fryiikliu. conld sctU'cely find su])p()i"t for 
l)is little ••AV.M'kix Xmvs-Letter." 

There ;ire a few iiged people still living at Nan- 
tneket. and elsewhere, and we might inelnde the 
gallant old Admiral to whom these pages are dedi- 
eated. who rememl»er the old chief Tashima. and 
will attest that there is bnt little romance in the 
faint ontline here given of his occni)ations. But his 
ettorts were all in vain! The aged patriarch, after 
a \vell-s})ent life, was shortly gathered to his fathers. 
Although full of yeai's. and ripe foi- translation, his 
death was no doubt ])rematurely hnri'ied on hy a 
melancholy event connected with this history, and 
in whicli one of the charactin's. already introduced 
to the reader, had hut too intimate a participation. 
The generation he hatl nndei-taken to instruct, grew 
up, and forgot the knowledge he had iiuparted. 
Their parents, no longer under his wholesome re- 
straint, soon relapsed into the beastly habits of the 
Indian; the loom and the spinning-wheel W(U'e cast 
aside, and intemix'rance and ab.i'ect ])overty and 
destitution. suc(MM^ded to sol)er and industrious 
habits. A few yeai-s more, and every vestige of the 
race must become extinct! A solitary Indian, claim- 
ing kindred -with nobody living, still wanders over 
the islaiul. and nujst shortly" sink into the nothing- 
ness of his fathers. But shall the memory of Benja- 
min Tashima. th(^ vii-tuous and the good, b«? also 
buried in o1)livion? The pages of a tale like ours are 
too ephemeral to wai-rant tliat it will ])rove other- 
wise. It is to be ho})ed tliat some j:iermanent 



MIRIAM COFFIN-BENJAMIN TASHIMA. 27 

memorial Avill preserve to jjosterity the estimable 
name of Tashima; for no man better deserved to 
have his virtues eml)laz<>n(Ml in monumental marble. 
The example of sueh a man — sueh an Indian, if 
you please — is Avorth more to posterity. — aiul. — the 
pliilanthropist will say. — should be dearer to it. tban 
all the savage glories of a thousand l*liilii>s oi- 
Teeumthes. Avhose elaims to admiration rest uVon 
countless deeds of blood and rapine, and a wvy 
questionable valour displayed in the slaughter of 
Avomen and ehildren. .May God forgive the unehar- 
itableness I — but of such a race of misereants we an' 
almost ready to say— '" Perdition eateh their souls!" 
— as. like the ghosts of Baiuiuo's line, the vi'd 
visions of their cruelties rise up before us: — Hut to 
the manes of such a truly giullike Indian as I^<'nja- 
min Tashima, we would say with fervour — 

requtp:scat in pace: 



28 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 



V 



CHAPTER III. 

Miriam's Town House. 

Tlie barque of Jethro luid seareoly iost siglit of tlie 
jslaiid. before the first iiuagiiiings of ^Nliriaurs anibi- 
tioii began to be developed. jNlie siir\ eyed the 
humble range of apartments eonstituting lier dwell- 
ing; — projeeted alterations and improvements: — 
iuid finally abandoned them, after counting the ex- 
pense, and coming to the lunidential conclusion that 
it would cost nu)re to i)nll down, and refit, and re- 
huild. than it would to erect a new mansion from the 
foundation. 81ie therefore sent for the chief builder 
of the town, and requested him to make out plans 
of a building, upon a scale of magnificence then un- 
known upon the island. At first he suggested a bai*n- 
like pile, with the usual tumble-down roof, and 
broad, unsightly gable to front the street. It was an 
fipproved pattern with the generality of the in- 
habitants, which admits of incontestible proof even 
unto this day. But ]\liriam. who had seen other 
houses abroad, seized her pen, and astonisluHl the 
architect with her readiness at design. Slu^ first 
showed him the front of a double house, and gave 
liim a sketch of the mouldings, and pilasters, and the 
well-imagined ornaments of the time. Avhich wei'e 
then in vogue upon tlie main: — and this fi-ont. slie 
said, should face the street. 

Here was an innovation that causi'd the honest 



MIRIAM COFFIN-^MIRIAM'S TOWN HOUSE. 29 

builder to stai'e! The plan o±' the roof, too, was to 
him ail absolute marvel. With two strokes of the 
pen, ]\liriam iiidieated to liim the fashion of the roof, 
which resembled the letter A. — only not ([uite so 
steep. The very simplieity of the design astonished 
the builder. What ! — not have the roof to slope off 
behind, with a gradual concavity, until all the 'out- 
houses iu the rear were covered l)y it. and its ex- 
tremity should come almost in (MUitact with the 
ground .' And were the complex, triple pitches of 
the r(»of. on the other si(l(\ to l)e discarded for a 
single descent.' Monstrous! — Yet ^Miriam iioiihl 
have it so. or not at all. Slie selected a pheasant site 
on the margin of the bay. which threw the front of 
the building to the North. 

"Gadzooks!" said the Imilder; — ''place the front 
towards the North! — who ever heard of such a thing 
before?" 

The accommodation of looking out upon 'the bay 
was nothing. The i)revailing fashion of fronting 
towards the warm South, (even though sand-banks 
should intervene to shut out the i)rospect), was; 
ever\thing. INIiriam jirevailed; and the builder 
acipiicsced. But he had his misgivings as to her 
sanity. Ilei' prudence, at any rate, he lielieved to 
he clean gone. The mansion was. lU'vertheless, built 
under the eye of .Aliriani; and a Ia])se of mor»^ tliau 
half a century still finds it one of the best-looking' 
architectural designs upon the island. Hut its line 
water prospect is cut off. by the uniltitudinous 
dwellings and warehouses that have since grown up 
between it and the shore; and you must now as^-end 



30 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

t(t its "n'o//.." or terrace ui)on the roof, and take 
Aoiir station by the side of the pole supporting the 
weather-coek. if you Avould look fortli ujton the sea. 

If the ]\Ioslems have their minarets at the top of 
their dwellings, from which to call their neighbours 
to prayer at mid-day. — so have — or rather liad, the 
Sherburne people their "crows' nests" at the tops of 
theirs, to look out upon the deep in every direction, 
and from Avhence to convey the first news of a home- 
ward-bound ship to the people below. All the ancient 
buildings of the town still display these convenient 
look-out places. 

Simultaneously with the Iniilding of her mag- 
nificent town house. ^Miriam had determiiu'd to erect 
a country seat, a luxury never l)efore thouglit of 
on the island. It was a piece of extravagance that 
no one could eomiirehend. I*>ut her mystery was her 
own. and she permitted no one to penetrate i t. 
iMiriam luul ulterioi- designs: — and the signs of a 
political storm, which her foresight predicted would 
shortly break forth, w.rv. in fact, her chief induce- 
ments for selecting the distant aiul buiely s]iot. 
whereon to place her country mansion. 

A long and narrow bay. navigal)le only for small 
vessels, but coiniect(Nl with the nuiin hai'liour of 
Nantucket, runs u|) towards the eastern pai't of the 
i!i;land. .\'<'ar the e.xti'emity of this liay were the re- 
mains of ;in ancient Indian settlement, close u|)on 
the margin of the estuary; ainl the ])lace still beai's 
the Indian name oi' ''Q)iois( /' The Indians had once 
planted llu'ir wigwams upon the little knoll of land 
that ovei-looked the water: and upon this sanu^ hill 



MIRIAM COFFIN-MIRIAM'S TOWN HOUSE. 3 i 

did JMiriani determine to build the foundation of her 
house. The land declined gently to the bordei's of a 
small pellucid lake, in which fishes of many varieties 
sported, as yet unharmed and uuvexed by tlie angler. 
Altogether the location was inviting and preferable 
to any other within the same distance of tlie town; 
and it was. besides, approachalde l)y \\ater without 
exposure to the sea. From the hill a bi-oad blue ex- 
panse of ocean was visible, shut out by a long low 
bar of sand that embraced the bay. To the east- 
ward, at the extremity of the harbour, on another 
gentle declivity. stot)d. at the time, the little Indian 
settlement of '"Eat-Fire-Spring. " with its circular 
wigwams. These were the only habitations of human 
beings within sight of Quaise. The l)ack-ground was 
a vast heath. l)rol'Ceri only here .md there 1)\' ;i sliglit 
undubition in the plain. The rouuiuce of the ishnid 
is in its water prospects; there is uoue iu its heatliy 
plains ami stiuited bushes. 

The ])rogress of building the couutry-seat. — its de- 
tails of stone and mortfir. and timber and shingles, 
we will tu)t iuHict upoti our readei's. for to'theiii. ;!s 
to us. they would be uuiuteresting. Suffice it. th;it 
the country-seat. — ;i s]ilendid thing of its kind. — - 
Avas built at a great expense, and w;is loug nfter- 
Avards familiarly known ;is "^liiMMnrs Fctlly."" When 
last Ave saAV it. time and exposure to stoi'ms had cov- 
ered it Avith a mossy coating, and it Avas occujjied !»\ 
an industrious farmer and his family. Avho seemed to 
take a pride in speaking of its origin ami its 
peculiarities. 

A peaceable lodgment being effected in Ihe town 



32 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

house, — which had been garnished anew with furni- 
ture, conforming in splendour to its outward finish, — 
a party was projected under ^Miriam's auspices, who 
were to go in caleches to take formal possession of, 
and to regale themselves at, the country mansion,— 
which had also previously been comfortably and 
even elegantly fitted up with all that was necessary 
for its occupancy. 

A train of one-horse, two-wheeled, springb'ss car- 
riages was got ready to the nvnn1)er of half a dozen, 
which were seen emerging from the outskirts of the 
town on a pleasant moi'iiing towards the close of 
September, 1774. The van, as was fitting, was led by 
]\Iiriam and her danghter. nuder the escort of Grim- 
shaw, who took upon liimself to be charioteer for 
the occasion. Three high-backed, rnsh-bottomed 
chairs, were lashed witli cords to the sides or the 
gnnwale of the cart: and being spread over witli 
some soft covei-ing, (a checkered coverlet, or a 
figured counterpane) — the riders were as well ac- 
commodated as the outward indnlgence in tin' luxury 
of the times would warrant. There were then no car- 
riages with s]ivings — no gigs. — nor stanhopes. — nor 
coaches with luxurious seats. It was many years 
after this before even a chaise was tolerated on the 
island; aiul when two of these, with wooden elbow 
springs, were introduced by some of the wealthier 
families, the hue-and-cry of persecution was set up 
against them; and their owners were fain to 
abandon the monstrosities, and betake themselves 
again to their caleches. One chaise, however, was 
allowed to be retained by an invalid; but it is related 



MIRIAM COFFIN— MIRIAM'S TOWN HOUSE. 33 

that eveu he was not permitted to keep and to use it, 
unless upon all proper oeeasions he wonld eonsent to 
lend it for the use of the siek. 

Next ill order eaiiie the vehiele of our somewhat 
iiegh^eted friend, Peleg Folger, (the Icinsman of 
.Miriam,) and his daughter ^lary; and these were at- 
tended, merry and mercurial as ever by the fash- 
ionable Imbert in his red coat and powdered wig. 
But Jmbert and ^lary. — who by this time had ar- 
rived at much familiarity of speech and intercourse, 
— had all the talk to themselves; — interrupted, to 
be sure, once in a while, by •'minnows and 
maek'rel!" — the peculiar phrase of Peleg, as he 
ehided and urged on his fat horse, from a lazy walk 
to a still slower jog-trot, over the smooth and almost 
trackless heath. 

Cars, holding some of the wealthy toMTisi)eoi>le, came 
next. These guests had been invited by ^Miriam to take 
a share in the social jaunt ; but although this was held 
forth as her ostensible design in asking the company 
of her neighbours, she secretly wished to observe the 
effect of her splendour, and what she believed to be 
her tii'st approaches to greatness, uiwn her com- 
panions. 

On arriving at her mansion, ^Miriam descended 
quickly from hi'V caleche and entered the new dwell- 
ing. Wlieii her visitors had disengaged themselves 
from their traveling paraphernalia, she was found 
ready at the door of her country seat to welcome them. 
She gave them a reception which was thought, at the 
moment, to l)e rather formal and grandihxjuous, for 
one Avho had been accustomed to the ]ilain mode of 



34 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

sfjeech and manner, peculiar to those professing the 
imsopliisticated ways of the Quakers ; but this was 
soon forgotten by her visitors, or reniemljered but 
slightly, amidst the earnestness with which she pressed 
lier hospitality upon the wondering islanderis. 

The guests were received in a carpeted drawing 
room, furnished and adorned with luxuries whieh 
strangely contrasted with the plain and scanty articles 
of household garniture, that they had left at home in 
their own houses. Allowing a proper time for re- 
freshment, as well as for indidgence in curiosity, 
Miriam led her guests to other parts of tiie building, 
whose appointments excited equal wonder with those 
of the reception chamber. 

The grandeur of the hostess showed itself somewhat 
after the manner of the sailor, who had seen and 
admired the vest of his Admiral, — the facings of 
which had been manufactured of costly figured silk- 
velvet. The jack-tar, being paid off on his coming 
into port, forthwith sought out a fashionable tailor 
and contracted for a similar waistcoat, whose linings, 
as well as facings, should alike be made of the rich 
material. ^Meeting the Admiral in his wanderings, he 
stripped off his roundabout and displayed his vest 
fore-and-aft, exclaiming, in the pride of his heart, as 
he made a complete revolution on his heel — "No slumt 
here, you see, Admiral ! — Stem and stern alike, my 
old boy!'' Tt was even so with ^Miriam. From tlie 
garret to the kitchen every thing was complete. Her 
upper chaml)ers were arranged with a neat display 
of all that was convenient as well as ornaiuental. Tiie 
parlour was hy no means funiislicd at tlu- expense of 



MIRIAM COFFIN— MIRIAM'S TOWN HOUSE. 35 

tlie sleeping chauil)ers or the kitchen; and Miriam felt 
a matronly pleasure in giving oeeular demonstration 
of the fact. There was no sham there : — stem and stern 
— fore-and-aft, were alike admiralile. 

Her half-l)rother Peleg surveyed the whole in mute 
astonishment. When he had, as he thought, seen all 
within, he proceeded to the kitchen and lit his pipe: — 
and thereupon he sallied forth to take an outward 
view of the premises. Here, as his mind became com- 
pletely filled and running over with wonder, and after 
making a due estimate of the prodigal expense, he 
was observed to take his pi})e from his mouth, and 
to puff out a long whiff of smoke. 

"^linnows and mack'rel!'' said he slowly, as he 
footed up, and comprehended, the vast outlays which 
Ids sister had incurred, for nothing in the world ])ut 
to indulge in the unheard-of vanity of a country 
mansion. 

Peleg had never heard of Anaxagoras : but he meant 
])recisely the same thing, at this time, by the above 
peculiar exclamation, as did the ]i]iilosopher, whose 
o])inion had lieen asked in relation to a costly imperial 
monuuu^nt : — ""What a deal of good money,'' said 
Anaxagoras, as he gazed at the pile, ''has here been 
changed into useless stone!"' 

"Why. ]\liriam !— ]\ririam, I say!" shouted Peleg, 
at the toj) of his "tin-pipe voice,'" as he finished his 
survey of tlie wonders of Quaise. 

"T hear thee. Peleg: — thou speakest to every body 
as if they wi^v thick of hearing: what would "st tliou, 
Peleg?"' 

"T am sorelv amazed, and troubled at tliy extrava- 



36 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

gance; and I have called to thee aloud to tell thee so. 
I will uplift my voice in reproof, in season and out 
of season, against such shameless waste of thy hus- 
band's property; — and 1 take these good people to 
witness, that I cry aloud, and spare not!" 

' ' Go to, Peleg, ' ' said ^liriam ; ' ' we have enough of 
the world's goods and to spare, and shall not miss 
the tritle that thou would 'st cry so loud over. I have 
built this pleasant dwelling, out of town here, as much 
to set such close-handed misers as tliou an example 
of spending money worthily, as to furnish a retreat 
from the close air, and the dust, and the turmoil of 
the town, in seasons Avhen enjoyment may be had 
abroad." 

''Dust and turmoil, indt^^d!" said Peleg: '"and 
talkest thou of close air in the town I— minnows and 
mack'rel ! who ever heard of such downright nonsense? 
The air is as free and untainted in the settlement, as 
it is hereaway among the rotting seaweed of this 
choked harbour of Quaise, and the swamps of the 
stagnant i)onds in the neighboui-hood." 

jMiriam did not nuich relish the freedom of Peleg 's 
speech, whom, heretofore, she had always found a 
pliant echo of her own opinions ; — but then she forgot 
that her former actions and performances were the 
results of wise counsels and profound calculation ; and 
she did not sufficiently credit Peleg for independence 
of ()])inion about mattei-s with which he was familiar. 
The I)uilding of a costly house, and that house, too, so 
far away from town, was the height of folly in Peleg 's 
eyes. His opinion remained unchanged after he had 
resumed his investigations: and more closely inspected 



MIRIAM COFFIN- MIRIAM'S TOWN HOUSE. 3 7 

the iutei'iur. He found, l)y aeeideut. a range of small 
apartments, curiously leading from one to the other, 
with doors unnecessarily opening- in several directions, 
and having liolts, and hars, and ponderous fastenings, 
incomprehcnsihle in their use. He lost liimself in the 
labyrinth, by following a flight of ste|)s, that led from 
one of these mysterious closets to hidden ])laces be- 
neath the house; and he stumbled along a dark 
vaulted passage, and up another flight of steps, which 
led to a small trapdoor concealed among some bushes, 
and opening near the water of tlie bay. Peleg whistled 
outright as he emerged into the light of day, and with 
more than his usual emphasis he ejaculated — "Min- 
nows and mack'rell the woman's crazy — stark, staring 
mad !"" 

^liriam had lost sight of Peleg in his wanth-rings; 
but she caught a glimpse of him just as his head 
peeped thi-ough the trap-door from beneath the 
ground. He had seen more than she intended should 
be disclosed to any of her visitors ; and she hastened. 
with real anxiety, to put a stopjier upon his speoch, 
before he should let others into the secret. It was no 
easy matter, however, to lead Peleg away from a sul)- 
jeet upon whicli he could discourse so elo(|uently, as 
the extravagance and waste which his eyes had ])eheld. 
and of which his kinswoman had been guilty; — and 
she was right glad when it was proposed and voted 
that the whole party should Avalk over to the Indian 
settlement at the Spring, ^liriam forthwith took the 
arm of Peleg, and walked l)riskly forward; and she 
thus effectually secured her plans from further ex- 
posure. The other members of the company paired off 



38 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

with one another, and strolk^d after them at tlieir 
leisure. 

J\liriani's purpose had heen so far aeeoniplished, 
that she knew her visitors would not rest until the 
whole town should be made acquainted with the mag- 
nitieenee of her country esta1)lishmeut : and she also 
knew that in proportion as she affected magnificenee, 
so she would excite the (^nvy of the people ; and that, 
in fact, by her assumption of superiority, it would 
eventually eome to be a thing conceded, — and she 
would thus, by degrees, lay the foundation of her 
greatness among her townsmen. 



MIRIAM COFFIN-THE SHEARING. 39 



CHAPTER IV. 

The Shearing. 

No oiit' \vhu lias i^ver voyaged to Nantucket at this 
interesting period, lias sojourned with regret, or gone 
away iinamused or uninstrueted. The Shearing, which 
lightens many thousands of shee[) of their tieeee, and 
adds [M'opoi'tionately to the wealth of the peoi)]e, was 
eelelirated with a "pomp and eireumstance" hefore 
the Kevolution that is, p(M'lia])S, not eciualled by the 
l)arade of the present day. We are not among those 
who value the past at the expense of the present, and 
would fain assert that no unseendy innovation has 
been suffered to ereep in upon this time-honoured 
festival, — nor to retreneh the homely, but well ordered 
- — nay, liberal" jn-ovision, that of yore was furnished 
forth, it is not likely, however, that the festal day 
will ever b.-" forgotten, tiiough its sph^ndours may l)e 
somewhat dimmed. At any i-ate, it is still kept saered 
by the islanders, and the i)roper day of the month of 
June is regulai-ly mai'ked upon the ealendai* as the 
advent ther.-of. 

It is remai'kable that war, though it has more than 
onee sensibly diminished the numl)er of the flocks 
annually submitted to trenchant instruments of the 
island shepherds — and teri-ibje and overwhelming as 
it has always proved to Nantucket especially, — it is 
remarkable, we rej^eat, that it has never put its ex- 
tinguisher upon the merry sheej) shearing. Amidst 
sufferings the most intense, and pi'ivatinns the most 



40 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUC KET, 

appalling-, it has l)ei'n kept as a liolyday season lor 
more than a hundred years, and witliout the inter- 
regnum of a single year. Its undoubted antiquity thus 
carries it back to a period long prior to the existence 
of the Republic ; while its observance, both ancient 
and modern, has been as regular as that of the national 
jubilee. It is a rational holyday of labour and recrea- 
tion — of toil and profit — of enjoyment, unsullied by 
dissipation or excesses. Long may it endure — and long- 
may it i)rove the source of happiness, and of increase 
of store to the worthy island dwellers I 

By early cockcrowing, the plain, or common, which 
we have elsewhere spoken of, was ornamented with its 
yearly complement of camp tents and awnings of 
canvass, marshalled in approved array, and skirting 
the area in the vicinage of the sheep-pens. The flocks 
scattered here and there since the shearing of the 
previous year, had been carefully collected, and after 
the inspection of the marks of the owners, and the 
customary washing in the linii>i(l waters of ]\Iiacomet, 
had been folded in temporary enclosures. They were 
thus kept in readiness for the operation of shearing. 
The poet Tliomson gives a vivid description of a sheep- 
washing in his own land, and has saved us the troulile 
of entering into the same preliminary pai'ticubirs : — 

"Tliey ilii\(' tlip tioulilcd ilocks 
'l\i wlitMe tile iiiii/'y ninninj^- liro(ik 
J''()riiis ;i (It'Oi) ]io(>l; tliis liaiik ;il)ni[it aiul bigli, 
Ami that fair spieailiiiy' in a iiclililod sliore. 
I'rov.l [„ tli(> iii<lily brink, niiicli is the toil. 
The cL-iinonr iiinch, of men. ami Ixiys, 
l']ie the soft fearful <-ieatiires to the flood 



MIRIAM COFFIN- THE SHEARING. 41 

C'uiiimit their wonlly siik'S. And oft tl'.e s\\:iiii, 

Oil some iiti]i;(tieiit >-eijiii,iJ-, hurls them in; 

Emljoldened tlien, nor hesitating- more, 

Fast, fast they plnnge amid the flashing Avaxe, 

And pant and hilxmr to the farthest shore. 

At last, of snowy white, the gathered flocks 

Are in the wattled [kmi iniiumerous pressed 

Head aliove head: and, ranged in lusty rows. 

The shepiierds sit and whet the sounding shears.'' 

By sunrist' the selcctiiit^n, or magnates, dressed in 
tli(4i' ■■hest-l)ib-and-tiu'ker. " were seen moving to- 
wards the eommon in a body. Tlie solemn importance 
of tile office, and tlie magnitude of their calling, were 
ohsei'vahle in their prim and sedate carriage, while 
acting in tlieir official capacity of umpires or judges 
in tlie division of the fleece, or in determining the 
ownei-ship of the sheep whose marks had been 
oblitcM'ated or defaced. Next came the inhabitants and 
their guests — staying not for j)recedence, or the order 
of g'oing forth — but binding their hasty steps to the 
common. These wei'e immediately followed by a train 
of carts and caleches, or those little two-wheeled 
vehicles peculiar to Nantucket, and adapted, by th(^ii' 
uncommon lig-htness and small friction of the hul» 
and axle to the sandy soil — if such may be dignified 
l)y the name of soil which forms the super-stratum of 
the island. The heavier and more capacious carriages 
were laden with the profusion of good things, care- 
fully provided against the great day by every family, 
and destined for the comfortable refreshment of the 
body during the progress of the shearing. Each family 
bad reared its own tent, and now garnished the siibur- 



42 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

han l)oai'(l with its choicest })rovisions. With some, tlie 
savings ol' a wiiole year wei'e lil)erally and anxiously 
ai>proi)i'iat('(i to furnish tht^ xarious appointments of 
tents and ramj) e(piipage, and the other ])arai)hei'nalia 
of meats, Itreadstiiffs, and vegeta))les. Tlie rare teas 
of the P^ast, so shortly destined to jii'ovoke a lth)ody 
(luari'el Iietween Great Britain and her stul)born 
daughtei'; tlie eonfeetionery of the West Indies, and 
the siil)stantial (I ('(/(fa of ih{'\v own island and ad- 
jacent coast ; foi'eign wine, of generous vintage — sel- 
dom used exce]it u])on rare occasions, hy these people of 
simple lial)its: home-made fermentations and jileasant 
lieverages; the freshest produce of the domestic daiiy, 
in all its variety of rose-impregnated butter, yielded 
I»y means of the tender herbage of June: i)ot-clieese, 
• •urds and ci'eam, and the venerable cheese, which in 
distant counti'ies would j^ass cui-rent for "Parnu'san," 
l)ies of di'i(Hl fruit, custards, and tarts of cranberry; 
cakes of flour, mixed up with ginger and treacle, and 
the moi'e costly and aml)itious ]>ound-cake, stuffed 
witii i-aisins, and fi'osted over with an incrustation of 
sugai', resonbling' ice; pudding's of bi-ead, of rice, and 
of Indian meal, enriched with eggs; ])i<'kles of cucum- 
ber, Ix^ans, beets, and onions; — these and all the otIuM- 
eatables and accom])animents, wliich a prudent anil 
well instructed housewife can imagine, or put down 
upon a catalogue, after a week's thinking and prepa- 
ration, were plentifully proviihHJ, and importunately 
— after the good old American fashion, — jiiled and 
pressed ujion the pewter platters of the thronging 
guests, as long as the sheai'ing lasted, oi- a luingi'y 
customer could b»^ found. 



MIRIAM COFFIN -THE SHEARING. 43 

While the tables beneath the tents were spread witli 
snow-white linen, and decorated w itli the choicest and 
best i)rovisions by the matrons, the sturdy and vigor- 
ous men were hard at work among the sheep. It was 
the pride and ])oast of tliese peoi)le, in that day, to 
rear the best sheep in the colonies; — and wool as fine, 
though without tlic ^lerino cross, and unitton as fat 
as any found in America, were the pi'oduce of the 
excellent breed possessed l)y the Nantucketers, wliose 
tlocks in the aggregate numberpd some twenty 
thousand head. It was, therefore, no trifling jol) to 
shear the fleece from so many animals: and, althougli 
a day of leisui'e and pastime to most of the islanders, 
es])ecially the females, it was to the men a busy and 
laborious season, and, at the same time, to sfi-angei-s 
a eui'ious and higlily gratifying display. 

" The glad cirele round tliem yield their sovils 

To festive mirth, and wit that knows no gall. 
Meantime their joyous task goes on ajiace: 
8onie, mingling, stir the melted tai'. and some. 
Deep on the new-shoin vagi'ant 's liea\ ing side 
To stainj! the ei))her, ready stand; — 
Others th' unwilling wether drag along: 
And, glorying in his )night, the sturdy boy 
Holds by the twisted horns th ' indignant ram. 
Fear not, ye gentle triliesi — 'tis not the knife 
Of horrid slaughter that is o'er you waved; 
No, 'tis the swain's well guided sheais.'' 

It was not. however, the congregation of the flocks, 
and the temi)tations for tlie appetite, that solely con- 
stituted the inte)-est of the scene. The shearing, as 
it is called, is seized ui)on, also, as a fitting occasion 
for the free interchaniie of thos(^ friendly courtesies 



44 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

that .so signally distinguish and cement the families 
of the island, whose pursuits and whose gains, whether 
on land or on sea,- — are in a measure common to the 
whole. The success of one is sure to bring gain and 
prosi)erity to his neighbour. Their sheep and their 
cattle feed and herd together on the same unenclosed 
pasturage, which of itself is owned in common by the 
islanders, and denominated tlie [)roperty of the town. 
The success of a whaling ship at sea brings joy and 
worldly store, not only to the owners, but to the crew 
and their families in their due proi)ortions. The 
people are thus linked together by tlie strongest ties; 
— l\v a sort of comnuinity of interest. The failure of 
l)asturage, or blight in the flocks, curtails the enjoy- 
ments of all : and a disastrous voyage affects, in the 
same degree, the property and happiness of all the 
members of the little community— 

"If there is sonow there. 

It runs through many bosoms ; — but a smile 
Lights up, in eyes around, a kindred smile.'' 

]>ut there are other considerations that weigh with 
the inhabitants, and mark the wisdom of the founders, 
if so tliey may be called, of this annual festival. 
Friends and relatives, long sundered and kept a])art 
by a wide expanse of water, now make it a point to 
cross the Sound which divides tiiem : and a ])retty 
general assemblage upon the island at tlie shearing, 
though but for once in the yeai", compensates in a 
considerable degree for the long separation, and for- 
the slender and unvarying amusements of the isolated 
sctth'iiient. The reunion is not unlike that of the aged 



MIRIAM COFFIN— THE SHEARING. 45 

grandfather who assembles liis t-hildren and his grand- 
children, during the Christmas holydays, at his own 
festive board; and, by promoting general hilarity and 
exciting the buoyant mirth of liis youthful 
descendants, adds thereby to his own hapi)iness, while 
he contril)utes to that of those who surround him. 

The hour of eating approached, and was welcomed 
by the worshipful the Selectmen, "and all others in 
authority,"" as well as l)y the inciustrious clippers of 
wool and the gadders after anuisement : who all sat 
down, as they could find places in the tents, and 
intermingled without ceremony. It may perhaps be a 
work of supererogation to inform the reader that, 
thus circumstanced, they fell to work upon a sub- 
stantial and "glorious breakfast."' To attack and 
demolish huge mountains of toast, vast broiled slices 
of the unequalled salmon, caught l)y the Indians and 
brought in cars from the waters of the wild region 
of the Penobscot, cutlets of veal, slices of mutton, ham 
boiled and peppered in various dark spots, and gar- 
nished at intervals with cloves, beefsteaks swimming 
in butter, the finest flavored fish which 'but an hour 
before were sporting in the sea— but which now 
appeared in the various garbs of "roasted, baked, and 
boiled, and brown:" — we say, to attack and demolish 
these comfortable appliances, and to wasli tluMu down 
with a strong nnig of coffee or tea, was but the work 
of a few minutes: for the Americans are quick eaters, 
and the invigorating air, and the morning's exercise 
had whetted the a])p(4ite of the luultitude. And yet 
there was enough for all, and many baskets to spare, 
without the imputation of a miracle. 



46 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

The savoury aiitl liearty meal was further supplied, 
or we may say "topped off,'" with amazing- quantities 
of a species of animal called by the islanders the 
"Poociuaw. " and sometimes by the other Indian name 
of "'Quohog. " These are found in great numbers on 
the sandy shores of the island ; and, but for their great 
])lenty in the northern parts of America, they woidd 
be esteemed a cielicious luxury. 

Lest we may not be well understood while we speak 
of the inimitable cpiohog, and, by our obscurity, en- 
gender dovd)ts of its inexhaustible abundance, it may 
lie well to inform the gentle reader and enlighten his 
understanding. Its aboriginal name, and that which 
it still holds in the oldest parts of America, is just a.s 
we have written it down. Nevertheless the "qito-lwg" 
hath neither bristiles nor tail, nor is it a cjuadruped, 
as its name woidd seem to import ; but it is in truth 
a species of shell-fish, which naturalists, in tlie [)leni- 
tude of their lore, denominate hivah'uhi)-. It is 
grievous further to say, in explanation, that its 
original and sonorous name, and that by.v.hich it is 
still known in Nantucket, has been made to yield, by 
the pestilent spirit of innovation in the middle states, 
to the flat, insi[)id and unsounding title of — the clam ! 
Spirit of the erudite Barnes, the conchologist — spirits 
of Sir Joseph Banks, and Sir Humphrey Davy — 
spirit of the learned jNIitchell — could you not, in the 
course of your long and well-spent lives. Iiit upon a 
more expressive and euplionious jaw-cracker for the 
persecuted 'luohog. than the abominabh' name of 

Tlu' manner of cookiuii' the (luoliog in the most 



MIRIAM COFFIN -THE SHEARING. 47 

{)alatable way at the " Sqiicutf tints" of Xantueket, a>i 
oracularly given out l)y the knowing Peleg Folger, 
was resorted to on this occasion, to eke out the fore- 
going meal. Even unto this day, some of the eastern 
people adopt the same method, to '"stai) the vitals'' 
of the (juoiiog at their "'roast -outs'" or forest junket- 
ings. As to the j)eculiar mode of cooking, we adopt 
th..? argument of Peleg, even as he learnedly discussed 
the matter while ari'anging a l)ed of the aforesaid 
hivalvular shell-tish on the morning of the shearing. 
Imprimis — The quohogs were placed upon the bare 
ground, side by side, with their mouths biting tJie 
dust. The Iturning coals of the cami)-tires, which had 
done the office of boiling and })roiling, were ri'moAed 
from und'u- the cross-trees, where hung the pot and 
tea-water kettle, and a{)plied plentifully to the backs 
of the quohogs. In a few minutes after the a])plication 
of the fire, the cooking was declared to be at an end, 
and the roasting of the quohogs complete. The steam 
of the savoury liquor, which escaped in part without 
putting out the fire, preserved the meat in a par-l)oiled 
state, and ])rcvented it from scorching, or drying to a 
cinder, and the whole virtue of the fish from being- 
lost. The ashes of tht^ fire were effectually excluded 
by the position in which the animal was placed at the 
beginning; and the heat as completely destroyed the 
tenacity of tlu^ hinge whicli connected the shells. 

"And now," said Peleg. "take a few on thy platter: 
remo\'" tlie ui)iier shell, and ajjply a lunq) of fresh 
l)utter and a sprinkling of pepper and salt." Our 
blessings on thee, Peleg Folger. The morsel, if taken 
hot. might l)e envied by an eastern emjieror. whose 



48 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

pjihitc is ]);niii)ere(l 1)\- bird-nest delicacies ; or liy 
the cxciuisite gouriiiajid of any nation.,, Jiut in 
America, who eats a clam or a (|Uoliog' None but 
tile wise — and that ineliuh^s a majority of the peo- 
j)]*^:- — the fashionable, never — more's the pity. 

■'Jnst in time for the ([nohogs, eh.'" (-"xclaimed 
Feleg Folger. as. l)lowing like a por|)oise. lie ran his 
head nnder the tent of Jethro Coffin; — "'A meal 
without qnohog's goes for n(»thing with me. But, 
minnows and maek'rel! as near as I ean make it 
out. I've eome behind the feast, and I'm in a fair 
way to have the (piohogs served up witlutut the 
meal; — and it all comes of my rnnning after the 
I'ascally I'am that jnmpcd ov(M' the shear-]i(Mi. fol- 
Inwcd l)y the other foni'-and-thirty imps of Satlian, 
that the S'lackmen i)ut under my charge to gather 
wool from, ('ousin .Miriam. — a cup of thy tea. — • 
ah. it's always the best on the island; where did'st 
tliou light on it. pray? — a slice of that ham. -b'tliro 
— a little toast and a few of thy ])ickles. Miriam. — 
and then — I shall be I't-ady for the (piohogs. Whew I 
I'll jnst thi'ow my coat on the l)ench. and hang my 
wig on the peg of the upright there; — now then for 
a moi"s(4 to stay my stomach. J hojie thy tea is hot, 
.Mirijiiu. f(ir I "m summat warm with I'unniug; and 
Ii(i1 te;i. thon kllow'st cools niic so nicely." 

Thus warbled the niusicji! Pcleg. ;is. with tlu^ ut- 
most nonchalance, he took ])ossession of a s(>at at 
the board of -Jethro. It was nevertheless no in- 
trusion; — he might have done the same thing with 
imjiuuit>- at any other table on the common. His 
own teut. had he sought it amoim- the ma!i\- similar 



MIRIAM COFFIN— THE SHEARING. 49 

tr^iiiiHii'jiry slielti'i-iiigs. he would luive fouiul ocevi- 
jiicd by sdiuc of his nciglibors and tVieiids, who 
• •ared as litth:- as himself where tliey sated their 
hunger or slaked their thirst. When both these had 
been reasonably appeased, and l^eleg began to he 
afflicted with loss of appetite, he eame to discover 
that other persons liesides himself were in the tent; 
— though Jethro and Miriam had made their esca])e, 
leaving Ruth and Isaac to do the hononr.s of the 
morning to Feleg. Between the pauses of his 
slackening efforts at mastication, he found leisure to 
address himself to the persons present; for when 
not emj)lo\('(l in eating it was painful to restrain his 
tongue. 

•"So, Isaac, thou hast found thy w'ay to the shear- 
in' again." said Feleg: "How^ didst thou relish the 
sea? — rather sick'ish at the stomach once-in-a-while, 
eh? Didst thou strike a whale, Isaac?" 

■'Besure I did," answered Isaac, with the proud 
bearing of a young whaler: "Dost thou think I 
would be gone three years, and not use a harpoon 
on a whale? " 

"Hut thou'rt (juite young, Isaac, and hardly 
strong enough to do execution on a 'parmacitty." 

"Yoiuig or old. cousin Peleg, I've done the deed 
more than once, and have faii-l\- earntMl my share of 
the Leviathan's cargo." 

"I wai-i-aut me." said I'eleg. with a knowing wiid<. 
— "N-onng as thou wast, thou hadst some damsel in 
thine eye, who told thee not to come jjack without 
killing a whale, under penalt\- of losing her favour. 
Thou hast heard of the female combination at Sher- 
burne? Thy sister Ruth can tell thee all a1)out it, 
and ti'aiislat(^ to thee the jjKvining of m\- words." 



50 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 



CHAPTER V. 

The Dance in the Loft. 

There are. or were, no l)all-roiiiiis in Xantueket; 
and it was with dismay that the committee ol' ar- 
rangement, on the morning of the shearing, reported 
progress — if being foiled at every tnrn in ()l)taining 
a room suitable for dancing .and finall\' l)eing Ix'aten. 
to a stand-still, may be so rei)orted. The cartls oi' 
invitation, or rather "invites" by word of mouth, 
slily whispered, with an injunction of secrecy, by 
way of nota bow, were given out ; and it now l)e- 
came an affair of honour, as well as of credit, to 
make the invitations good. What Avas to be done.' 
Several of the empty warehouses, or oil-stores, could 
with but little preparation be put in order for tin- 
reception of the company: and it was a nudtci- of 
perfect indift'erence, as to the appearance of the 
jilace. if a spacious room could be obtained v.'here 
dancing could be going on with comfort: — 1)nt sucli 
a place was not to be had for the asking, nor for 
love: — much less could it be obtained for money, 
when the object Avas mad»^ known. The bare propo- 
sitio]! to any of the owners would have defeated the 
whole scheme, and rendered any subsequent attempt 
to get up a ball al)ortive: for the opposition and the 
ire of the Selectmen would have been roused. — and 
then — "good nigld to Marmion!" Secrecy was. 
1]i('iTf(»re. the w;itch\voi-d : ;nid be or shi- who conbl 



MIRIAM COFFIN— THE DANCE IN THE LOFT. 5 1 

not keep the secret was iiuworthy of dancing. I'lys- 
ses gave a similar iutimatiou to Teleniachus, wlien he 
whispered in his ear — '"Qnkonque ne sail pas .se 
tain, est iii(U(j>ic dc gt/tivcruer.'" 

The second story of Jethro Coffin's storehouse, 
situated near the wharf, had been cleared of its con- 
tents for a considerable time, in anticipation of the 
arrival of his ships. Nothing but the intervention 
of the shearing had i)revented its being filled to 
overfiowing with oil-barrels from the Leviathan; 
and the following morning Avas set apart for ))reak- 
ing bulk, and for the transfer of a portion of her 
cargo to the building. The situation Avas sufficiently 
remote from the habitations of the uninitiated is- 
landers : the noise of the fiddle Avould scarcely l)e 
heard in the town, and Jethro would retire to l)ed 
eai'ly — and so wonld doubtless the rest of the niag- 
natcs, after a day of toil upon the common. The 
young men were desperate — it was noon of .the day 
— a place must be had: — Jethro Coffin's loft was a 
good loft — a capital and capacious room— he wonld 
surely know nothing of its occupation until all wa.? 
over, — and tlicn, what if he did? 

Thus pushed to extremities, there appeared no 
alternative but to take possession of the empty store- 
room : and the committee forthwith agreed among 
themselves that Jethro 's loft should be the ball- 
room, and that young Isaac should be ciilled in as 
an ad.jtuu-t committee-nuin ; — and this for two rea- 
sons: — first, because he might otherwise feel him- 
self neglected, and so blali of the base uses to which 
the premises of his father wci'e aI>orit to come; anii 



52 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

second, because eertiiin keys, to wliieh Isaae coiiid 
have access, were necessary to iiiil(icl< c* rtain doors 
of entrance and egress. Violence would scarcely he 
tolerated; and indeed it could by no means be re- 
sorted to. A convenient tiigiit of steps led to the 
second story from the ontsitle; and the drawing of 
a bolt would give them admission, without the neces- 
sity of passing through the lower ajiartment. which 
was stowed Avith barrels, cordage, sea-stores, and 
apparatus for whale-tishing; and withal was by no 
means a pleasant entrance for the revellers. Isaac 
was therefore hastily sought out, and the ])ro.iect was 
warily proposed to him. 

"Neighbour Isaac, how dost thou do.' — Fiiu' sport 
this, once more, after thy three years' absence!" 
said one of the maiuigers to the lad. as he found him 
strolling among the shear-])ens. munching a huge 
]»iece of gingerbi-ead. 

■"To-be-sure!"" said Isaac; "'nobody enjoys it 
more than I do. '" 

■"Art thou going to the dance to-night. Isaac.'*' 

"I should lilvC to go very well, but I've g<»t no 
iitritf," — answei-ed he. 

"Oh. tliat's easily managed."' re[)lied the man- 
agei': ""and we"ve ])ut thy lunnt^ on the list. Thou 
iinist not miss coming by any means; —I beai' there 
ai-e a niniiber of smart little girls from .\ew Hed- 
foi-d. with blacls' eyes and rosy cheeks, who are 
sett^g- their cai)s for thee — and the.v will all be at 
tlie dance 1o-iii<iht: — so thou see"st that 1liou"i't ex- 
]iected." 

"Indeed! — Til come. — thou max'st be siire on"t. 



MIRIAM COFFIN— THE DANCE IN THE LOFT. 53 

said Isaac, "but wlu-re dost tiiou hold the dance'"' 

"Why. to tell thee a truth, aud a secret to boot, 
we have uot yet made up our luiuds as to the place. 
Canst thou not jmt thy wits at work, aud help us in 
our extremity? There's Peleg Folger's shant\' — but 
we don't like it altogether; it's rather old, and the 
floor is none of the best — and then he's had the 
cooper at Avork for some time, and it might be 
dangerous to carry lights in among the shavings: — • 
then there's neighbor Hussey's storehouse; but it's 
full of tar and grease, and the try-kettles are in the 
way. What dost think of thy father's loft?" 

"There's not a larger nor a better place on the 
island," replied Isaac, upon Avhom the invitation 
from his seniors, and the story of the New Bedford 
girls, with black eyes and cherry cheeks, added to 
the morning's lecture of Peleg Folger. had their full 
effect. 

"Well. then, suppose thou should 'st take a turn 
with us down to the landing, and help us to arrange 
a little; thou'rt not particularly engaged. I see?" 

"Not in the least." replied Isaac; "I'll give thee 
all the assistance in my power to set the dance a- 
going. Truly a shearing Avithout a dance would be 
a new thing with us. But it is time thini should'st 
be at thy preparations, if thou dost intend to have 
anything but bare clap-boards and shingles to look 
at." 

"Thou art right, friend Isaac; and we are well 
reminded that it is time to be stirring. By-the-by. 
thou had'st better run and get the key of the store- 
house, and we will meet thee at the door, llarlc. in 



54 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

thine ear, — there's no particular necessity for telling 
thy father about the affair. He will know all about 
it in due season, thou kuow'st." 

"I understand," said Isaac, winking and placing 
his finger knowingly by the side of his nose; — and 
away he scampered for the key. 

"There — that's well got over," said the manager, 
"and our prospects begin to brighten up apace." 

"But," observed another committee-man, "sup- 
pose we should be thwarted in obtaining possession 
— or suppose, after we do effect a lodgement, and all 
is arranged for the dance, that neighl)our Jethro 
should get wind of the trespass, and come in and 
order us away eh? What say'st thou to that?" 

"Never fear — never fear; he'll be none the wiser 
till it is all over. The chances are in our favour, in 
consequence of the delay in making preparation. 
I'll tell thee how we've managed such things liefore. 
A sentinel must be posted to give us notice of inter- 
lopers, and the cabin of some convenient vessel, with 
a strong padlock for security, will serve to imprison 
a spy for a time; — or, for lack of a cabin, I would 
consent to head up the ill-natured fellow in an oil- 
eask, sooner than be defeated after all this trouble. 
Jethro Coffin was once a young man himself, and is 
up to all these tricks ; — so that if he does get infor- 
mation of the dance, he will be Avise enough to go 
to bed quietly, and forbear to thrust his head into 
the lion's mouth." 

"Thou art a veteran, and a daring iiumager, 
truly," replied his com]ianion; "and I will follow 
in thy wake with the olx'dienee of a ])upil. liut 



MIRIAM COFFIN— THE DANCE IN THE LOFT. 55 

Isaac comes, — aucl see! — he holds the key up in 
token of his success." 

Isaac now made his appearance, and applied the 
key lO the yielding lock. Having admitted the 
managers through the inside passages to the loft, the 
door opening upon the outer stairway was unbolted, 
and the trapdoor over the store-room secured 
against intrusion from below. The committee-men 
were soon reinforced, and they went about their taSk 
in good earnest. Jethro's key was shortly after- 
Avards hanging in its usual place at his dwelling- 
house, over the uunitel-piecc The reader will par- 
don us for being thus particular about small nuit- 
ters, because we are anxious to show what pains 
were taken, by the young men of the time, to hood- 
wink the authorities, both legal and parental, in a 
comnnniity that was once, if not now, accused of 
being Puritanic and over-strict in their manners and 
habits. 

iMany hands make light work, they say: and some 
twenty young and athletic men soon completed the 
decorations of the loft. The beams and the rough 
siding were quickly covered with the spare white 
canvas of the neighboring vessels — the festooning 
of Avhich was much easier and better accomi)lished 
])y the sinewy hands of the sailor-managers, than it 
<*ould possibly have been by the delicate touch of a 
modern upholsterer. It is said that the Grecian 
architect took the hint of his capital, from a bush 
of acanthus drooping from a tlower-pot ; and why 
should not the sailor learn the art of festoning from 
the brailing of a sail, or from the graceful apjx'ar- 



56 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

ance of a half-tlowiiig sheet when he is reetiiig? 
There are more natural folds in the drapery of a 
ship's canvas on various occasions of eularging or 
taking in sail, than a landsman would dream of. 
Therefore, let the fresh-water critic put a stopper 
upon his smile, if. haply, one should light up his 
vinegar countenance, at the idea of a sailor turjiing 
upholsterer. 

•Flags of every description, and eice of every mari- 
time nation extant, were procured from the same 
source that yielded the canvas. Tlie stripes and the 
stars. — the handsomest of national emblems, were 
then not in being. The grouping of the jiarty- 
coloured Imnting upon the wdiite ground of the can- 
vas, and the festooning overhead to hide the rafters 
of the building, were not so soon arranged as the 
ground-work. But hy dint of putting up. and tak- 
ing down to alter for tlu' better, and a deal of con- 
sultation upon every point of the display, it was at 
last agreed that the ornaments could not l)e im- 
proved^ in arrangements, nor be placed so as to i)re- 
sent a more finished cOKp (Vo'iiil to the s[)ectator. 
The lighting of the apartment next claimed the 
grave consultation of the committee. I>ut how 
could that be a subject for long consultation, when 
oil of the best, and candles of the Avhitest sperm. 
Avere the staples of the island? There were ship- 
lamps to be liad foi- the asking: and the lamp ap- 
paratus of the lighthouse, which still lay untouched 
and uninjured wherc^ it had fall<Mi. was to be ha<l for 
the trouble of picking it u|). ( 'liandeliers. to be let 
(bnvn from tlu^ peak of the roof. wer(^ easily sup- 



MIRIAM COFFIN— THE DANCE IN THE LOFT. 57 

plied, by Ijoring' holes in barrel lu'culs. and suspend- 
ing" them with light cordage, from which the inconi- 
l)arable sperm-taper would send forth its clean light, 
as well as fi'om a more costly piece of workmansliip. 
A dressing-roiini for the ladies at one end of the 
apartment, and a closet for refreshments at the 
other, were prepared l)y stretching sails across the 
room, whose blanlc and bahl appearance was relieve(l 
by festooned flags, and bnnches of party-coloured 
signals, fancifully grouped. Benches ])laced round 
the entire space of the ball-room, covered witli clean 
ravens-duck, uni-olled from the bolt, furnished seats 
for at least two huiulred guests. These arrange- 
ments being comjjleted. tlu^ floor next claimed nt- 
tenti(Vii, The holy-stones of the craft in the harbonr 
were pi/it in leqnisition : and a vigorous application 
of these abominations of the sailor, over a plentiful 
sui)ply of soap and sand, soon reduced the asperities 
of the plaid\ing. and rendered the floor snflicieiitl\ 
smooth on the surface for daiu-ing. The trundling 
mop did the rest, and put the finish to the ardn.ons 
duties of the committee-men: — who jiow. with ai'ins 
a-kind)o. surveyed theii- handiworlc witli no iittlc 
pride and exultati<)n. 

"We have two hours yet to snndown."" said one of 
the active managers, "and have barely time to 
spread the information among those who liave I'e- 
ceived invitation to the dance. Let us retire: an 
ablution, and a change of dress, will do some of ns 
no harm — particularly those Avho have s(*aled the 
rafters among Jethro's cobwebs." 

The door of the ball-room was carefull\' closed. 



58 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

and tlie iii.niHgers went into the town, i'l'cscntly 
young; men and women might be seen scudding 
from house to house, where a nod. and a wink, and 
a whisper, or a telegraphic signal from the fingers, 
told the news that all things were prepared for the 
dance. The information spread, also, among the 
young folks who yet lingered on the common; and 
hy sundown all tiie i)n'if(fs were rigged out in their 
best, and I'eady to steer for the metannn'phosed 
storeroom of the nnconscious Jethro. 

The secret was well kept as to the i)lace of meet- 
ing; and even ^Miriam, and the other staid dames, 
could only conjecture that a dance was on the car- 
pet, by the unusual attention of their daughters to 
their personal appearance, after the amusements of 
the day were supposed to be over. By a species of 
management, which the y(uing ladies of Sher1)urne 
were obliged to resort to, and which is well under- 
stood by all other females who are l)ent upon the 
gratification of their wishes, they sli])ped off under 
various i)retences. — such as a walk, or a visit to a 
neighl)our, — in company with their favoured swains; 
and when evening began to gather, the l)all-room 
began to fill. The young rlamsels Avere delighted 
with what they saw, and they took every oppor- 
tunity to ])raise the zeal and taste which had Iteen 
exerted. "' at the shortest possible notice." in thiMr 
behalf; and they essayed to recomi)ense, by their 
smiles, and their clieerful behavioui-s, the projectors 
of the entertainment whicli would wiiul up the fes- 
tivities of the Island Carnival. Who. but a sour old 
hunks, wonbl put his veto ui^oii mu amusement so 



MIRIAM COFFIN -THE DANCE IN THE LOFT. 59 

congenial to tlie buoyant feelings of the young, — 
especially on a day like the shearing! 

But alas! — what a short-sighted animal is )iiaii ! 
How small a thing is sufficient to disperse his visions 
of glory, and becloud the bright colours of the rain- 
bow ! Napoleon, it is said, would have gained liis 
last battle, and riveted the chains of Pjurope, Init for 
a trivial accident; and ('oluinl)us would have missed 
the discovery that gave him a deathless fame, <^xeept 
for the appearance of a few straggling sjiears of sea- 
weed, as he was on tlic point of ]Uitting liis sliip 
about to return homeward. The great maehinei'v of 
life — as well as that which l)rings happiness to man- 
kind, or gives peace and ])lenty to a nation, is 
e(|ua]ly de]>end('nt upon trifles for its nice adjust- 
ment and regularity of motion. The (irawing of a 
bolt or a ]>in. which a num may move with his little 
finger, will set an entire establishment at Avork, 
which gives bread find employment to a thousand 
Iniman beings — and for further illustration — the 
scrajnng of a single bow upon the strings of a liddle 
will set a whole ball-room in active motion. 

In the hurry of ''getting up" the preparations for 
the dance, not a thought had been bestowe<l u})on 
the tiddler — the very mainsj)ring of the great move- 
ment! Certes, it was a most unfortunate oversight; 
for some five score of dancers were already assem- 
bled, and stood on tiptoe with expectation, and 
waited, witli beating hearts and anxious palpitations, 
for the signal to begin. But if the dancers appeared 
with beating hearts. hoAV much more did the hearts 



60 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

of the nianagt'i's beat witli anxiety and throb with 
dismay ! 

"We are all aliaelc!" exelaimed one. as witli 
])laiichcd eheek he hurriedly gathered some half 
dozen of his coadjutors into a corner; "devil a fid- 
dler have we provided for. and not a man is there on 
the island who can draw a bow! " 

"The devil! " exclaimed the rest, in concert. 

"What is to be done? I would give a barrel of 
the best sperm, if Captain Jonathan Coleman wns 
here. He doffs the Quaker, and plays the fiddle, at 
sea: althongh he wears his l)ig beaver and shad- 
belly when ashore. We might press him into the 
service, if Jethro's other shij) had arrived; — zounds! 
was there ever anything- so unfortunte!" 

"What's the matter?" asked a manager who had 
just come in; "why a'nt you ou the Hoor. jigging it 
away to some lively tune? 

"jMatter enough, my friend! " was the reply, "we 
have no tune to jig to — no fiddhr, <l — u it!" 

"The devil!" 

"We have called upon that gentleman often 
enough, and I don't see that he is forthcoming to aid 
us in our strait: — But hist! — listen! — Avhat is that"* 
Speak of the devil, and straightway his imp appears! 
There is a fiddle a-going somewhere in this vicinity, 
or my ears deceive me. Don't you hear the squeak? 
Come! — let us follow up the sound in a body; and 
be he man, or devil, forth he shall come. — unless he 
be too unsubstantial for our grasp! " 

"Ay — ay!" exclaimed another, "I'll lend a hand 
to bring him, will he, nill he : — at all events, he shall 



MIRIAM COFFIN— THE DANCE IN THE LOFT. 61 

fiddle for iis. "wliether lie will or no — Tom- Col- 
lins!' " 

Tli(^ atffiir ditl not brook delay, and forth rushed 
the managers in i)ursnit of the tiddler. — exeitino;, by 
tlieir eonduct, no little \vond<'r in the l)all-room. They 
traced tlie sounds of the scraper of catj^ut, until lie 
was fairly made out to be the l)lack cook of a sloop, 
that had lately an-ived from New York, and was wait- 
ing foi- a cargo of oil. The negro was the sole tenant 
of the little vessel, and was anuising himself in the 
cabin, dui'ing the absence of the comnumder, by run- 
ning over his short catalogue of dancing tunes, which 
he played "bi; tar," that is to say, mechanically, 
without knowing one note from another. He was now 
playing them for the thousand and first time, and 
had, of course, by much practice, got them well estab- 
lished in his memory. He was one of that numerous 
tribe of self-taught violin i)layers that inhabit the 
DutcJi neigiiborhood, along the short of New .Jersey, 
and in sight of the city of New York. The spot most 
prolific in such ebony artists, is familiarly known by 
the name of romnumipaugh. 

The black, who was now sawing away for his own 
edification, had played many a night, and all night, 
at the frolicks in and round about the little village 
of Bergen, while tlif untiring Dutch girls and their 
athletic admii'crs ■■stomi)'d it down" to his rattling 
nuisic. lie was just tlu^ man for the dance at -lethro's 
storehouse: and, as time developed, proved no mean 
professor in his way. 

"Hillo-therel'' exclaimed a voice at the companion- 



62 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

v.ay of the sloui): ■■(•oiiu' up lierc, thou man of the 
fiddle!" 

"Hello-dere, yoursef ! — what a want wid a nigger, 
massat'" demanded the l)lack. 

"("ome up here, tliou gut-sera [)er, and bring thy 
fiddh' along with thee:" said a committeeman;— 
"thou'rt wanted ashore, to jday for the folks." 

"l can't leave de slooi) ; — massa cap'n gone ashore, 
and nobody here. What you gib a nigger, if he go; — 
heh, massa f" demanded the negro, thrusting his curly 
l)ate through the companion-way. 

There was no time for parley nor bargaining: and 
he had no sooner shown his body halfway above deck 
than he was seized by four gentlemen in drab, against 
whom he found it useless to contend, and was quickly 
trundled ashore : wliile a fifth descended into the cabin 
and captured his instrument. A few steps l)rought 
them to the foot of the stair at the storehouse. Here, 
putting down the black, who was sorely frightened at 
the \uiceremonious usage of his abductors, they 
addressed a few words to him, of the following elf ect : 

"Now, friend, thou'rt to understand that there is 
one of two things to he done — and tluit quickly. 
i\lark! we will have no words — either thou must go 
up. and fiddle for the dancers until midnight, for the 
which thou slialt i)e well fcwarded, — or thy fiddle shall 
he broken into shivers ovei- thy pate; and perhaps a 
ducking alongside tlie wharf will be thrown into the 
bargain. Choose, and he (|uick! — Yea, or nay!" 

"WelK l)ut, massa—." 

''.\ot a word more — be (|uick, or 1"11 try the 
sti'eugth of tliy iustrument on thy head!" 



MIRIAM COFFIN— THE DANCE IN THE LOFT. 63 

■"Stop I massa — stop! — don't smash a-fiddle, massa. 
1 s'pose 1 mils oo; hut you scare a-nigger so — you "luo^ 
make 'em turn white I" 

"Never care for that; — u^) stairs with thee I — and 
a noggin of strong waters shall restore the tone of thy 
stomach, and the Egyptian darkness of thy 
comi)le.\i()n. March, inarch I" And upstairs went the 
unfortunate tiddler, attendetl hy the honorahle the 
conunittei^ as a I'ear l»ody-guard. The liareheaded 
professor was ([uickly "" ensconced behind the arras," 
and a full half-pint of "raal ginniwine Jinuneek}', " 
without dilution, was poured down his throat, by a 
desperate tormentor. 

"Hah! — dat smacks! — Yah — yah — yah! I t'ink I 
feel 'mazin better now," said the black; "'I don't care 
if you scare a-nigger agin, if you treat him (irf( r wid 
good likker like dat." 

"Thou feel'st much better — dost thou? What's thy 
name '.' ' ' 

"Pete Schneiderkins, massa." 

"Where art thou from?" 

"1 comes from Communipaug'h, in de Jarseys." 

"Well, then, ]\Ir. Pete Sehneiderkins, of Communi- 
paugrh, thou wilt be pleased to take thy station, and 
strike ui»." The managers' edict having gone forth, 
Pete was introduced to a little bunk, or raised pulpit, 
at the side of the ball-room, Avliere he beg'an to tune 
his instrument ; — and the dancers took their places. 

Scrape — scrape, jangle — jangle, twang — tang, — 
went Pete's fiddle, as he screwed it np in the tuning; 
but he screwed up the string too much ; and then he 
let down the peg too far. l>etween his flats, and liis 



64 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

sliarps. ciiid his sci'ai)iiigs, the n^sti-aint of the (laiicci'S 
began to wear off. The glee and tlie good humor of 
the managers returned, now that they had secured a. 
fiddh^i', winch ten miu^lt(^s l)efore was considered a 
hopeless thing. The incident was buzzed about, while 
Pete was tiying to liit tiie happy medium of the 
strings; and it caused no little merriment among the 
dancers. The relief did not come a moment too soon; 
for that something was out of joint was manifest to 
the girls: and the absence of all the active managers, 
at a time when dancing slioidd have been under way, 
threw an awkward chill over the spirits of the assem- 
bled guests. All was now right again I — and so deter- 
mined were the conductors of the revel that there 
slioidd be no other vexatious interruption that, had 
the meddlesome Selectnu^n made their appearance in 
a body, it would have been only a "/"/y — presto — 
begone!" operation, to have bottled them up in their 
own oil-casks. 

We find it recorded among the papers of Peleg Fol- 
ger, who anuised himself, at an advanced age, in writ- 
ing an unpublished history of his time, that "Certayne 
Yuthe not! having y*? feare of (!od afore theire Eyes 
did sorely grieve y^ S'lack Menu by their Doings, 
and did threaten most contumanshusly and with a 
high Hand to bungg y afoi-e said Magistrates up 
within cei'tayue lie-Casks — y*" which would indubita- 
bly have proved an unsavoury Operation and a most 
unchristian Trespasse u])on the Libertys of y*' Sub- 
jects." We are thus fortified by the authoi'ity of a 
writer of antiquity, who.se lucubrations no contc^m- 



MIRIAM COFFIN— THE DANCE IN THE LOFT. 65 

|)Oi"ary woi'thy of notice has dared to controvert; and 
we may therefore venture to piililish tlie fact to the 
world, that the managers of the ball aforesaid, did 
actually i)rei)are "certain oil-casks" for the recei)tion 
of the intruders, provided the Selectmen had made the 
anticipated onslauglit. 

Hut let the dance proceed: — scrape — scrape, again 
sawed out the violin of Peter of Communipaugh, and 
a short prelude upon the strings announced that his 
instrument was in perfect tune. The ])recision with 
wliich an ignorant Connnunipaugh fiddler will attun<> 
his strings, has often excited the astonishment of the, 
scientific professor: and a violinist of repute, who had 
witnessed their displays, was once heard to assert that 
not one player in a hundred who made pretension to 
skill ever equalled the sable Dutch tiddlers of Bergen 
in nicety of ear in the detection of discord. 

Peter Schneiderkins of Conununipaugh gave the 
signal, and a country dance was led ofif. Vigorously 
did Peter play that night, and well did he sustain the 
unisical reputation of the Dutch neighborhood, which 
the inimitable Deidrich Knickerbocker, the American 
Herodotus, informs us may be distinguished from all 
other places by an overshadowing cloud of tobacco 
smoke. The sweat I'olled down the ebony face of 
Peter while laboring at his instrument and keeping 
tlie time with the heel of his iron-sliod bi'ogan of horse- 
skin and ben-leathei". And lightly tripped the cherry- 
cheeked damsels to the music of the ebony Peter; and 
nevei' has Nantucket seen a si^rightlier dance nor a 
l>etter arranged ball-)'oom : — nor an assemblage of 



66 



SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 



faii'ei" women, nor a more I'obust, active and intelligent 
set of young men, tlian were then gathered together, 
by stealth as it were, to partake of an innocent amuse- 
ment. 




MIRIAM COFFIN— RACE AFTER THE WHALE. 67 



CHAPTER VI. 

Race After the Whale. 

Among the indentations of the coast of Western 
Africa, the bay of Wahvicli may be traced upon tiic 
chart. This bay was much resorted to in years past 
for the riglit-whale, or tlie species that live l)y what 
whalers call " sKctian.'' The bay contains good 
anchorage ground, and shelter for ships: and, at some 
periods of the year, known to whale-fisliermen as the 
season for feeding, the coast along its margin is visited 
l)y tiiese huge animals in pursuit of food, which con- 
sists [)rincipally of peculiar kinds of small fisli, tluit 
keep in shoal water about the bay and herd or school 
together in countless numbers. Thousands of the 
juullet. the roman. the stonebream. the harcb.'r. the 
mackerel, and maiiy other varieties that abound in 
African bays, together witii myriads of the ^ledusan 
race, are siiclal in by the right-whale for a breakfast, 
through the vertical bars of whalebone that stud its 
mouth, like the gratings of a prison window, or the 
palings of a picket fence. 

There are but few persons who do not know the dif- 
ference in tile formation and habits of the two princi- 
pal species of the cetaceous tribe — the >n!/sfic(tiis and 
the cachalot — which are tiie object of pursuit. of the 
whale-fishermen. They are crdhnl the right-u'hal( and 
the spcrmacetti. The formei- has immense jaws of 
Itone, without anv well-defined teetii, but with a u'roove 



63 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

of dark liI)i'oas iiiatcria! witliin its liiige uioulli, callcj 
wlialeboiie, through which to strain its food ;- -keeping 
mostly in shaHow water, and living upon small fry; 
disappearing from the surface at short intervals: re- 
maining under water l)ut for a few minutes; breath- 
ing, or ejecting from its blow-holes columns of water, 
in two perpendicidar streams, or jets d'tau, on rising 
to the surface, and producing inferior oil. The latter, 
to wit, the spermacetti, has tusks of ivory on a huge 
dropping under-jaw; blunt, clumsy head, and broad 
tail; frequenting none other than the deepest water; 
diving deep and perpendicularly; staying long out of 
sight, and, on rising, blowing or si)outing in a single 
jet, or stream, which inclines to the horizon; and pro- 
ducing a better ([uality of oil, though in smaller quan- 
tity according to its bulk, than the right-whale. The 
spermacetti yields, in addition to its oil, a valuable 
matter called spi rm, which is highly j)rized as an 
article of commerce: and also produces that rare 
aromatic drug called antbergris. 

•lethro, with his son Isaac, remained in London, 
intending, when his business should be finished there, 
t(» take passage home in some mei'chautmau liHiind 
for the colonies. 

'i'he (Ji'ami)us set sail from the 'i'hames. The ])lace 
of he)- I'endezvous with the Leviathan had been 
api)ointed at Walwich bay. The (irampus, without 
any i-emarkable incident, arrived first upon the spot, 
and had waited for her consort for several days. Some 
forty whaling vessels, of all naticms, were riding at 
anchor within the bay, waiting the expected visits 
from the whales. I)av aft''i- dav — week after week — 



MIRIAM COFFIN-RACE AFTER THE WHALE. 6 9 

had glided away since tlie arrival of the major part of 
the fleet, but not a solitary animal had as yet made his 
appearance. The Grampus was fitted out for the 
sperm-whale fishery, and had taken in her three years' 
provisions at London. Her captain and crew, who 
had been some time idle, now longed for sport; and 
they cared very little, — since wait they must for the 
good ship Leviathan, in order to double The Horn in 
company, — whether the invitation to amusement 
should come in the shape of a right-whale, a spcrma- 
cetti, or a razorback; — the last the most dangerous 
and least productive of all. 

Africa has a burning, sultry coast. The sun was 
sending a lurid glare upon the sea, which heaved long 
and sluggishly in the bay. without a breath of air to 
curl the crest of the swell. The crews of the assembled 
.shi{)s were at their early breakfast, and the ofificers 
and men on the lookout were lazily gazing upon the 
mirrored surface of the water, or listlessly walking 
to and fro upon their posts. In many of the whale- 
ships, — particularly in those that had previously been 
in Northern latitudes, — a crow's nest, or a sort of 
sentry-box. surrounded, breast high, l)y canvas 
stretched as a protection against the weather, and 
covered with an awning, — was perched on the main- 
topmast, or at tlie topgallantmast-head. In these 
places of look-out, a man is always stationed to observe 
the approach of the whale, and to communicate his 
motions to those on deck. liut in the Grampus, — 
destined as she was for temperate latitudes in the 
Pacific, — no other aecounnodation was provided for 
the sentry than the bare nuuntopgallant cross-trees, 



70 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

Avhere for liours together the lynx-eyed watcher sent 
forth his anxious regards upon the ocean, and deemed 
his station a post of honor,- — as it always proved of 
extra i)rolit, if he should be the first to discover a 
whale within pursuing distance. 

"Dull work I" said Seth, slowly pacing the deck; — 
''dull work, — l)y my hopes! — in this accursed climate, 
where scorching airs blow from the great Af ric desert : 
and as for amusement, — we may feast our eyes, if we 
like, by looking upon armies of naked Hottentots, 
'capering ashore,' smeared Avith slush, and surfeiting 
upon tainted blubber! — who mock us in our com- 
mands, as we coast along the bay, — repeating, as they 
follow us, our very words like an echo — and mimick- 
ing our ininutest actions, when we attempt to make 
ourselves understood by signs. Poor ])rutes ! The 
Creator has smitten their continent and their minds 
alike, with barrenness; and has given to the one its 
arid plains, which defy the hand of cultivation, — 
wliile the souls of the people are unblessed with the 
refreshing dews of intelligence. But what boots itf 
— they are happier, in their ignorance, than we who 
boast of knowledge, but who are restless in our desires 

' As the Ocean — 



Til Diie luiceaMiiig eliange of ebb and flow.' " 

The retlections of Seth, ui)ou the blessings of 
ignorance, were interrupted by a tlu-illing cry from 
the mast-head. 

"Flool-s — flool-s!" was the welcome salutation 
from aloft. The half-eaten meal was broken off, — 
and the rush to the boats was tiiuuiltuous. It was 



MIRIAM COFFIN-RACE AFTER THE WHALE. 7 1 

like tluit of Jill anny of practised gladiators, in the 
arena of the Colisemii. The alarm was heard by 
the erews of otlier vessels; and the iiitelli.»^e]iee 
spread like wildtire that a whale was entering the 
hay. Fonr boats Avere lowered — maimed — and pnt 
olt' from the Grampns. in less than half a minnte 
after the cry was nttered aloft. A hnndred other 
lioats were instantly in motion, and bearing down 
upon the animal. Some, however, took the precan- 
tion to separate from the rest, and thns divided the 
chances of capture. None conld count witli certainty 
upon striking the prey, for his conrsc was irregular 
while in ])ursnit of his food. Tlie whale is not a 
vicious animal, unless wounded: and. if not fi'ight- 
ened. will move off sluggishly from his pursuers, and 
appear and disai)iiear at regular intervals: — so that, 
if the direction is well observed when he sinks, (or 
shows his flool-s, or forked tail, as he dives,) a pretty 
accurate calculation may be made as to the place of 
his reappearance. 

The whalers in the boats that had scattered, had 
their share of excitement in turn; while those who 
had headed the whale, when he sunk from their sight 
for the first time, saw Avith mortification, by the 
indication of his flooks. that he had already deviated 
largely from his first course. As a score of others 
were already near the spot where he would next 
rise to bloAv. the first puiNuers natui'ally lay upon 
their oars: — but they Avere watchful of the evnt of 
the chase. 

^facy. with his two mates, and an ap))roved 1)oat- 
steerer. had ea<'h command of a sejiarate boat. The 



72 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

selection of the crews for these boats, is in fact a 
matter of taste or favonritisni with these officers of 
the ship. The captain has the first pick of the whole 
crew ;— and, if his judgment is good, he chooses 
those of the most powerful limb and muscle, quick- 
ness of apprehension, and readiness of execution. 
The next choice falls to the first mate; — the second 
officer's turn comes next; — and the siftings of the 
crew fall to the boat-steerers. It may readily be 
believed that Macy. who was an experienced whaler, 
was altogether discreet in his choice, and had a crew 
of oarsmen who might be pitted against any other 
crew of the whole fleet. To say that they were 
Americans, and experienced whale-fishermen, is 
sufficient assurance, of itself, that they were com- 
petitors for all A\haliiig honours, against the whole 
world. It is still, as if was (Miiinently theu. alfo- 
gether un-American to admit of superiority in this 
business. If was. therefore, with deep chagrin that 
Macy saw the game escape him : for thus far he luul 
led the van of the attack; while the whalei-s in some 
fifty boats in the rear, if not altogether confent fliaf 
lu^ slu)uld be their leadiu'. were at least satisfied. tii;i1 
to be beaten by hi hi was no disiionour. 

The Englishman, the Dane, tlu' Diitchman. the 
Swede, as also representativ^es of ofhei' Eui'opean 
nations, were JMacy's ambitious competitors, for the 
honour of killing the tii'st whale of the season: — 
the long and the strong ])ull was exerted to carry 
off the prize, and fair words of encouragement were 
offered, and enforced in the blandest and most per- 
suasive manner, liv f]u)se who controlled the l)o;ifs. 



MIRIAM COFFIN— RACE AFTER THE WHALE. 73 

Some, uselessly enough, where so iiuiny wen' en- 
gaged, pulled after the aiiinial in his devious e(»urse 
after food; while others rested on their oars to wateli 
the result, and to take advantage of his wanderings. 
The scene was most animating — and but a few 
minutes served to seatter the boats in every direc- 
tion; — to sprinkle tlu' bay with dark moving spots; — 
to people it with life — sinewy life; — -in short, it was 
an exhil)ition of the noblest of (jod 's creation, both 
animal and human, waging a war of extermination, 
and threatening death and destruction l)y collision. 

The noble animal. — for it was a right-whale of the 
largest class. — held on its course up the bay. scoop- 
ing its food from time t(t time, ami annihilating its 
thousands of small tish at a ilive; — leaving the boats 
far in the rear, and darting off in new directions, 
until those who were most on the alert, or rather 
tht)se who ])ulle(l the most constantly. Avere fain to 
give up the chase ;in<l to lie on their oars. The 
Avhale approached the anchorage ground of the 
sliij)s; and its speed was increased as it shoaled the 
water, in proportion to its eagerness after its flying 
victims. Tile small fish, driven liefore their huge 
devourer. clublied together, and concentrated in 
schools of such immense magnitude, that the ships 
were surrounded, as it were, with a dense mass of 
aninml nuitter. huddling together for common safety. 
or flying in swarms ]>efore their comuu:)n enemy, like 
file nudf itudinous and i)eriodical flowings of the 
herring from the Greenland seas. 

Intent upon his prey, the whale appeared uncon- 
scious of the dangerous vicinage of the ships, and 



74 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

played among' them with a temerity Avhieh (^vineed 
a tameness, or perhaps an ignorance of its danger, 
that phiinly showed he had never been chased by 
the whaler, nor hurt by the harpoon. His eager 
pursuit after food may, however, account for his 
recklessness; for, generally speaking, the instinct of 
the whale is snfficient. upon all occasions, to avoid 
an unusual object floating npon the water; and at 
such times the nicest strategem of the art of the 
whaler is required to capture him. 

The persecuted tribes have lieen chased so often, — 
])nrsned so relentlessly, from haunt to haunt, that 
they must not l)e unnecessarily scared; — for, if they 
are. the pursuit may as Avell 1)e aband()n(Ml tii'st as 
last. Xo crew e;ui row a boat, for auy length of 
time, to Ivcep jiace with a frighteued aiul fuszitivc 
Avliale. 

The animal, gorged with its fishy meal, at last 
commenced its retreat from the bay; and the boats 
maniFUvred to head him off as he retircnl. Obeying 
tlu' instinct of his nature, he now showe<l liis Hooks 
and vanislied from sight, before the boats could get 
within strilxing distance. A calculation lieing made 
where he would next ai)i)ear, (for l)eueath the wat(U- 
the whale does not deviate from a direct ]in<' in his 
h()riz!»u1;il progress.) a geiu'ral I'ace ensued; and 
each strove, as if life Avere on the issue, to arrive^ 
first npon the si)ot. Some tweut>' mitnites" steady 
and vigorous pulling foinid the foi'emost boats a 
full mile behind the whale, when he rose again to 
bi-eathe. Several boats were nnlnckily ahead of Seth 
in the chase. ;is their position at starting enabled 



MIRIAM COFFIN- RACE AFTER THE WHALE. 73 

them to take the lead, when the animal began to 
•push for deeper water. But Setli's men had bee)i 
resting on their oars, while nearly all others had ex- 
hausted their strength, in following the whale 
among the ships; and the captain judged rightly, 
that in darting after his tiny prey, he would h^ad 
them all a bootless danee. He had determined to 
wait for the retreat, and then hang upon the rear of 
the enemy. There were others, however, acquainted 
with the soundings of the bay, whose tactics were 
scarce inferior to Seth's; and the advantage gained 
over him by several boats was proof of this, or at 
least of the superior accuracy of their calculations. 
It was a long time since Seth had given chase to an 
animal of the right-whale breed; — he had grajjpled, 
of late, only with the spermacetti ; — a:; 1, tiierefore. 
it was not to be wondered at. at tliis time, ami under 
the circumstances, that some of those around him 
should beat him in maiueuvering in the bay. l>ut, 
in the steady chas(\ he knew that he could count 
upon the speed and bottom of his lioat's crew, and 
he was now resolved to contest for the victory. 

''We have a clear held now, iny l)oys — give way 
steadily — we gain upon them — give the long pull— - 
the strong pull — and the pull together: keep her to 
it — heave ahead, my hearties!" Such Avere the 
words of Seth, as with eyes steadily fixed upon a 
certain point, and with his steering oar slightly dip- 
ping at times, he guided the light whale-boat un- 
erringly toAvards the place where he expected the 
whale to reappear. On by one he had dropped his 
antagonists by the way, until three only remained 



76 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

iiuiiifuUy stnigglinu; between him Mud the i)rize. The 
whale ag:ain breathed at the surface, and the dis- 
tanee between the lieadniost boat and the animal 
was found to be diminished to half a mile — while 
the ships in the bay were run "hull down." The 
pursuers were now out upon the broad ocean. Those 
who had abandoned the chase in despair, were slowly 
returning: to their ships. The rigo:ing: of the vessels 
was manned by anxious spectators, watchino; the 
motions of the tiny specs out at sea. with beating 
hearts. The whale again cast his tiukes in the air, 
and sank from the view of his pursuers. Now came 
the tug of war. 

"You must beat those foreigners ahead." said 
Seth to his men. "or crack your oars: the\' are of 
good American ash. and will bear i)ulliiig." con- 
tinued he: — "Give way with a will.' — Pull — puil. my 
lads: — that whale will not sink again without a 
harpoon in his body: — and 'twill never do to tell 
of at home, that we allowed men of other nations to 
beat us. Keep your eyes steadily on your oars; 
mark the stroke of the after oar, men — and give way 
foi- the credit of the Grampus!'' 

Here Seth braced himself in the stern-sheets — 
seized the steering oar with his left hand, and 
placed his right foot against the after onr. just be- 
low the hand of the oarsnmn. 

"Xow pull foi" your lives!" said he. "while I add 
the strength of my leg to tlu^ oar: — Once more! — 
Again, my Ixiys! — Once more — There, — we ])ass the 
Spaniard ! " 

'' Didholit!" exclaimed tlie mortified native oL' Spain. 



MIRIAM COFFIN-RACE AFTER THE WHALE. 77 

The ;t(l(liti(iii;il inoiiKMituin of Scth's foot. iipi)lit'(l 
to the stroke oar had (h)ne the job; — liiit two more 
Itoats liad to he passed. — and (|iiii'kly too. or all the 
laltoiir would he h)st. 

"At it ag'aiu. my l)oys! — steady — my (^od. tiive 
way! — give way for tlie honour of the Grampus. — 
(>iu- pull for old .\antu(d<et ! — and — there — we have 
shown a eleaii paii' of heels t(t the Dutchman': ' 

"Ha(/(l! — D())i(hr and Bli.i< in! said the Hollander. 

'■There is hut one boat ahead." said Seth : — "It is 
the Englishman! — We nnist heat /////* too, or we have 
gained nothing! Away with her — down ni)on him 
like men! — One pull for the Gi'ampns. my boys! — 
another for old Xantuek " 

The Ameriean now shot up alongside of the Eng- 
lish boat: l)ut th(^ honour of the nation, too. was at 
stake, and the>' bent to their oars with fresh vigoui*. 
Five athletic Hnglishmen. each with a bare chest 
that would have sm'ved for the model of a Hercules. 
— with arms of brawn and sinew. — swayed their 
oars with a jirecision and an earnestness, that, for a 
miinite. left the contest doul)tful. The English com- 
mander, seeing how effectually Seth managed the 
sti'oke oar with his foot. l>raced himself in a similar 
attitude of exertion; — and his boat evidently gained 
U])on the Nantucketei' ! Seth saw the increase of 
si)eed of his rival with dismay. Th(^ whale, too. was 
just rising ahead. The bubbles of his blowing, and 
of his efforts at rising, were beginning to ascend ! It 
was a moment of intense anxiety. The I'ushing train. 
or vortex of water, told that he was waw the sur- 
face. Both con)mand»M's eiicouiviged their men anew 



78 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

by a single word: and tlieii. as if !)y mutaal consent, 
all was silent, exeept tiie long', measured, and vig- 
orous stroke of the oars. 

"For old England, my lads!" shouted tlie one. 

"Remember old Nantucket, my boys I" was the 
war-cry of the other. 

I>oth plied their oars with api)arently equal skill; 
— l)iit the hot Englishman lost his temper as the 
boat of Seth shot up again, head and head with him 
— and he surged his foot so heavily upon the after 
oar. that it broke off short in the rowlock! The 
blade of the broken oar became entangled Avith the 
others on the same side, while the after oarsman lost 
his balance, and fell backward upon his leader. 

"I bid thee good bye!" said Seth. as he shot 
ahead. 

"'Hill inxl (hniniafioii .'" x'ociferated the English- 
man. 

"Way eiu)ugh — peak \-our oars!" said 8eth to his 
men. The oars bristled apeak, after the fashion of 
the whale-fisln^rmen. The iiar[)Ooner inunediately 
seized and balanced liis weapon over his head, and 
planted himself firnU\' in the bow of the ])oat. At 
that instant the huge body of the whale rose above 
the surface: and Seth. with a single turn of his 
steering oar. brought the liow dead upon the 
monster, a few feet liack of the fin. Simultanconsjy 
with the striking of the boat, the well-poised har- 
])oon was launched deep into the flesh of the animal. 

"Slari' all!" shouted Seth. 

1'he i)oat was l)a(d\ed off in an instant; and the 
M'hale. feeling th<^ sting of the barb, darted ofil' like 



MIRIAM COFFIN-RACE AFTER THE WHALE. 79 

the wiiull Tile well-coiled line Hew through tlu' 
groove of till' how-post Avith iiieoin[)ai";ihle swiftness. 
«n(,l it j)resently hegan to smoke, and then to l)laze. 
with the rapidity of the friction. Seth now took the 
how with his lance, exchanging- jilaees with the liar- 
[xtoiicr. and (piietly ponred water upon the smoking 
groove, until it was cooled. The oars were again 
peaked, and the handles inserted in hrackets fi.xed 
on the ceiling of the boat beneath the thAvart.s — the 
blades projecting over the water like wings; and 
the men. immovealile. rested from their long but 
successful i)ull : — and much need did they have of 
the relief. — for a more arduous, or better contested 
chase the\' had nev(^r experienced. 

The line in the tub was now well nigh run out: 
and the boatsteerer. with a thick buckskin mitten, 
or iiip[j< r, as it is called, for the protection of his hand, 
seized hold of the line. and. in a twinkling, caught 
a turn around the loggerhead, to enable the man at 
the tub oar to bend on another line. 

The rapidity of the aJiimal's tiight thf while Avas 
inconceival)lc. The boat now phuighed deepl\' and 
laboriously, leaving banks of water on each side, as 
she ])arted the Avave. th;d overtop])ed the men's 
heads, and ett'ectually ol)scured the sight of every 
object on the surface. The swell of the closing 
Avater came after them in a heavy and angry rush. 
The second line Avas noAV alloAved to I'un slowly fi-om 
the loggerhead; and a draej, or plank about eigliteen 
inches S(piare. Avith a line proceeding from each 
corner, and meeting at a point like a pyramid. Avas 
fastened to it. and throAvn oA'er to deaden the s])eed 



eo SPUN. YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

of the wiijilc. AiKitlici- ;m(l ;in()1h('r diMU' were 
added, until the ainiii.d. i'reliiiu- the stroiit;' l)a('k- 
ward pull. l)(\t;aii to relax his efforts: — and pi'eseiitly 
he suddenly deseended. tlioujLih not to tlie full extent 
of the slackened line. 

It now hei-ame necessary to liaul in the slacl< of 
the line, and to coil it away in the luh eai-efully: 
while the UKMi pulled with their oars, to come up to 
the whale when lie should rise to tlu^ surface. All 
thin^is were soon ready again for the deadly attack. 

The i-ipjile of the whale, as he ascended, was care- 
fully marked: and when he a.yair. saw the lisiht of 
day. a deej^ wound, close to the harhed harpcxui. was 
instantly inflicted hy the sharp lance of Seth. It 
was the death blow. 

"Sfani (ill!'' was the cry once more, — and the boat 
was au'ain (piickly backed oft' by the oarsmen. 

The infuriated animal i-oar«^(l in a^i'ony. and lashed 
the ocean into foam. The blood gnsln^d from his 
spoutdioles. fallin^>- in toi'rents upon the men in the 
boat, and cohuiriny the sea. Tln^ whale, in his last 
ajtiony. is a fearful ci-eature. He rose ]>er]>endicu- 
lai-ly in the watei-. head downwards, and again 
wi-ithed and lashed the sea with such force, that the 
])eople in the I'etreating boats, though ten miles dis- 
taJit. heard the thunder of the sound distinctl\ . The 
exei-tion was too violent to last long: — it was the 
signal of his dissolution. His life-blood ceased to 
t1o\V. and he turned his belly to the sun! The 
icdif of the (ii-ampns tloated ti'ium]>hantly al)Ov<' the 
body of the slaught(^red Leviathan of the deep — 
and the peril of tlu^ hardy crew Avas over. 



MIRIAM COFFIN— FIGHT WITH CANNIBALS. 81 



CHAPTER Vll. 

Fight ivith Cannibals. 

With the rising sun the Leviathiin trii)i)e(l her 
anchor, and took her dei)arture for th(- i)late of 
rendezvous at Wahvieh Bay. Before lier sails were 
loosed, with extraordinary punctuality as to the 
time appointed, two boats reached the slii[). contain- 
ing the shoregoing part of the crew, of whom we 
have spoken, accompanied by the captain, who had 
gone ashore witli a determination to be prompt in 
supplying the place of any man who should un- 
necessarily linger beyond his hour. He was not a 
little surprised to find Quibby among the rest; for 
as yet he had not been missed from the ship. The 
sulky Indian was duly delivered over by his captors, 
and compelled to aid in pulling himself back to the 
Leviathan. The manner of finding him was houestly 
detailed to the captain by the young men; and every 
word and circumstance of the fortune-teller's 
prophecy minutely recapitulated. Good-natured and 
careless of speech as Coleman was generally, — in- 
spiring life and activity in his crew by his own 
cheerfulness, — he could not resist the solemn im- 
pressions that stole over him, upon hearing the cir- 
cumstances of the interview wnth Judith recounted. 

Taking the cue from the captain, who w^as un- 
usually taciturn for the hour, the tw^o boats had 
rowed off to the ship in silence, side by side; and 



82 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

scarcely a word, except occasionally a slight coiu- 
maud from the coxswain, Avas breathed by the creAvs. 
The misty advance of the dawn, and the deep, blood- 
red, refracted sun. struggling through the thick at- 
mosphere at his rising, were in ludson with the chill 
silence of the oarsmen, broken only by the long and 
measured stroke of the oars. Avhich gave back a 
melancholy sound, nnidi like the cheerless ticking of 
a clock, in the still hour of midnight. A feAV sea- 
gulls hovered over the boats, screaming, at times. 
loudly and unpleasantly. The scene Avas painful to 
all ; but nothing occurred to interrupt its awkAvard- 
ness, until the boats touched the side of the ship, 
when the men, glad to escape from the unnatural 
Coventry to which they had subjected themselves, 
scrambled eagerly up to the deck. 

"This is anything but a merry parting," whis- 
pered one. "'Long faces are the fashion Avith all 
hands!" 

"It's a bad omen!" said another. 

"There nmst be a. Jonah aboard!" exclaimed a 
third. 

"True! — that infernal Indian is here!" responded 
a fourth. 

The lynx-eyed captain saAV his men gathering into 
small groups about the deck, and conversing in mys- 
terious Avhispers. The scene at the fortune-teller's 
was rehearsing among them, Avith variations and ad- 
ditions, as he judged by the sober faces of the men. 
An hour's conversation upon such mysterious sub- 
jects, at a time like the present, he kucAv Avould be 
fatal to the voyage: for some of the men. uuAvilling 



MIRIAM COFFIN— FIGHT WITH CANNIBALS. 83 

to abide the witch's aiignry, were already hinting- 
that they wonld fain return to the shore. There Avas 
a movement ma(h' by several towards the quarter- 
deck; and Coleman thought he could read that in 
their faces which betokened a determination to be 
liberated from their engagements. The superstitious 
belief of some seamen is. in fact, their religion ; and 
its promptings are matters of conscience. The most 
skillful tact is. therefore, required to counteract its 
baneful intluence over the minds of a crew. The 
captain bethought himself of an expedient. His 
luggage was still in the boat alongsitle. and he 
hastily called two or three of the malcontents, in his 
wonted cheerful voice, to jump into the boat and 
pass u]) the articles lying in the stern-sheets; while, 
in the same breath, the mates were ordered to loose 
the sails and heave up the anchor. This had the 
desired effect; for the bustle that followed, was in 
consonance with the sailors' notions of the spirit- 
stirring scene of getting under weigh. The cheer- 
ing sound of "'yc-ho-hcavf'-o!" was responded to by 
the men upon the forecastle, tugging lustily at the 
windlass; and the men upon the yards began to feel 
in their element once more, as they briskly executed 
the quick and peremptory orders of their officers. 
The captain still kept his eye upon the boat at the 
side, giving the disheartened men upon luggage duty 
no time for a moment's consideration. 

"Bear a hand there. Jenkins, and pass up the can 
containing the morning's grog: — be careful, man. 
and don't spill the kritter — unless it be down thy 
own throat — so ! — all 's safe ! ' ' 



84 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

The serious face of Jenkins was lit up -with a faint 
smile at the attempted joke of the captain, and he 
tugg^ed the more earnestly at his work. — passing up 
in succession all the nick-nacks and small stores 
that had come oft' in the boat. At last, i)acked away 
at the bottom of the stern-sheets, a curious box was 
discovered, that drew forth a silent chuckle from the 
men in the boat, as it Avas lifted up to the captain. 

"Aha!" shouted Coleman, as he seized upon the 
circumstance to say something encouraging to his 
men, "be careful of that box, boys; there's fun and 
frolic packed up there; — it's my favourite child, — 
and he scjualls terribly with bad usage : but a good 
nurse and delicate fingering delight him overmuch. 
Come up here, thou king of fiddles! — and let me try 
whether the dews of the morning have aft'ected thy 
smooth voice !" 

The cai)tain immediately strung the instrument, 
and, apparently in a careless mood, as if to try the 
fiddle, but in reality with deep anxiety, he dashed 
off upon some rattling tune, that reached the ears 
of all on board, alow and aloft. He furtively 
watched the eft'ect upon the men, and was not disap- 
pointed in the result. A grin of satisfaction, and a 
knowing nod of the head passed from one to another, 
and good humour was restored. He put the cap- 
sheaf upon his mampuvre by piping the men to grog. 

"Avast heaving there!" said the captain. "Let 
all hands come aft. Steward, pass the horn round, 
and see that the main-brace is set up taut : — a cold 
morning this, boys — fill up — fill up. the liquor's good,, 
and plenty of it!" 



MIRIAM COFFIN— FIGHT WITH CANNIBALS. 85 

There were no more sober faces that day; and the 
occurrences of the morning and of the previous • 
evening were soon forgotten. The Leviathan held on 
her course steadily, and. in due season, entered the 
bay of Wahvich. She there found her consort; and, 
as she anchored abreast of the Grampus, the crews 
saluted each other with three hearty cheers. Boats 
rapidly passed from one to the other ; and news from 
home, and many kindly greetings were given and 
received; and a day of merry indulgence crowned 
the happy meeting. The fiddle of Jonathan was put 
in requisition, until the cramped fingers of the 
player could hold out no longer. 

The wondering Hottentots crowded the shore as 
usual; and, seeing the sailors jigging it awa}', the 
huge bronzed natives of the woolly tribe connnenced 
cutting their capers too. in close imitation of their 
white visitors; but they danced without motive, and 
without feeling a particle of the enjoyment or spirit 
of the scene. The Hottentots carry no }<ou] into their 
amusements. They are a languid and gluttonous 
race, and are devoid of energy or enterprise. Those 
now assembled upon the shore, were waiting for the 
kreng, or carcass of the whale, the prize of Seth, 
which had been towed to the anchorage of the 
Grampus, and was undergoing the operation of 
" flinch hi g.'' or "flensing," which deprives the mass 
of its outer coating of blubber. Temporary try- 
works or oil kettles had been set up on board the 
ship; and, when the Leviathan arrived, a hundred 
barrels of oil had been tried out ; and, in the course 
of the day. the huge carcass. de])rived of all that was 



66 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

valuable, was cut loose, aud launched into the bay, 
before the longing eyes of the hungry natives. It 
soon grounded on the shore, and, when the tide 
receded, the feast of putrescence was greedily com- 
menced by the locust nuiltitude of dainty ebony 
gourmands. 

The ships now left their anchorage, and l)ore away 
for The Horn. 

The passage round this promontory is made by all 
navigators, except our own, with dread and appre- 
hension. The '"Stormy Cape," — the bugbear of the 
Spaniards — -has ceased to scare the Americans, as it 
should all other nations. With us, there is no longer 
any foolish preparation of spars and rigging while 
doubling this cape ; and, from our fearless example, 
we may shortly hope that, forgetting the nursery 
tales of Patagonian giants and storms, all naviga- 
tors will cease to look upon ''The Horn" as a 
"CaJ)o des los Tormentos," and that they will re- 
gard it, with its ])romiuent brother of the other 
continent, and for similar reasons, as a "Caho di bon 
Esperaiiza/' ]\Luch of ideal security or of danger is 
made to consist in the presence or absence of the 
means of relief and supjiort and, perhaps, if a 
friendly settlement. capal)le of yielding supplies, 
were established at or near Cape Horn, as at the 
Cape of Good Hope, the exaggerated dangers of the 
former would never more be dreamed of. 

It has fallen to the lot of our Nantucketmeu to 
pilot the way here, as it has, in many other in- 
stances, to be pioneers amidst nautical dangers — 
amidst reefs and cpiicksands, rocks and currents, in 



MIRIAM COFFIN— FIGHT WITH CANNIBALS. 87 

distant aud unexplored seas. Whilst the Island of 
Nantucket is their sea-girt place of rest, in Avhich. 
all their joys and affections centre, their secondary 
home is upon the broad Pacific. Distant as it Is. it 
is their own ocean. It is their fishing-ground; its 
perils, and its sources of wealth and enjoyment are 
theirs. Hail, mighty water! — thou hast been gener- 
ous to brave men. and Ave would speak of thee 
proudly, and as thou dost deserve to be spolcen of! 

Upon emerging into the Pacific Ocean, and coming 
into more temperate latitudes, arrangements were 
made by the captains for recruiting after the long 
voyage. A large portion of the oil of the whale 
caught in Walwich Bay was ti'ansferred to the 
Leviathan ; and Coleman Ixu'e up for one of the 
South American ports, with the design of exchang- 
ing or disposing of it for fresh provisions. The 
Grampus held on her Avay to the Gallipagos Tshiuds, 
to lay in a suppl\' of the delicate turtle which abound 
there in inexhaustible numbers. 

The Gallipagos turtle, or terrapin, which lives 
only on land, and differs in that respect from the 
green turtle, is a peculiar and luscious food. These 
animals are foniul in no other ])lace than these 
islands; and hence the name of the cluster. They 
may be stowed away in the hold of a vessel : and, 
without being fed. can be ])i-eserved alive foi' more 
than a year, without any sensible dimiintion in tluur 
weight. They cai-ry their own sup]ily of water 
about them. Their fiesh is a luxur\- from which the 
appetite never tui'us away willi satiety: and e\'cry 
whaler will dilate upon the (l;iin1ics of ilic dish Avitli 



88 SPUN- YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

irrei)ressible lliiency. "'Toujours perdrix" never 
applies to the uncloying terrapin food of the 
G-allipagus. • 

The rendezvous of the ships was appointed at one 
of this grroiip of islands, and a fortnight from the 
time of separating was fixed for their reunion. No 
whales had yet appeared. The season for the 
spermaeetti, in this latitude, had not yet come. Indeed, 
whole months are sometimes passed without falling 
in with a solitary animal, in some of those seas; 
while in other parallels they nuiy be found in 
abundance. The experienced whale-fisherman will 
accommodate his cruising latitudes to the known 
seasons of their ai^]>earauce ; Avhile the no\'ice will 
keep all sail set for months together, and be as likely 
to run away from their haunts as to approach them. 
When the sperm whale is met witli. howevei, it is 
not singly, nor in ])airs: but whole tr<)o])s go to- 
gether, consisting sometimes of fenuiles and their 
young, led on and protected, as it were. l)y a single 
enormous patriarch of the male species. A skillful 
commander among a troop of these, aided by expert 
officers, will contrive to thin their ranks of some half 
dozen, before his day's Avork is complete; and if the 
young ones are first singled out. the mothers gener- 
ally fall an easy prey to the pursuer, from inrlulg- 
ence in that affectionate ])rinciple. implanted in all 
natures, brute as Avell as Innnan. Avhieh prompts the 
female to protect her young. 

While the voyage of the Leviathan was success- 
fully made, so far as to get into a Spanish port with- 
out accident; and while Jonathan is chaffering for 



MIRIAM COFFIN— FIGHT WITH CANNIBALS. 89 

the sale or exchange of liis oil. we must follow the 
Grampus in an uuexi)eeted turn of fortune. 

The latter vessel was within a few (la.\-s' sail of 
the Gallipagos, when she was arrested by one of 
those tremeudous hurricanes that sometimes blow 
up suddenly in heated equinoctial regions, and 
carry everything before their irresistible power. To 
contend against the gale that now blew upon the 
Grampus was worse than useless. There was hardly 
time to hand the sails, and i)ut the vessel before the 
wind under bare poles, before the strength of her 
spars was tried, by a rushing blast that made all 
crack again. The ship behaved Avell, however, and 
sustained her previous reputation for a capital sea- 
boat. Nevertheless, she was careering on, with un- 
measured s])eed. before th<' hurricane, until Seth 
had gone over nmny degrfcs of longitude than he 
had ever before ventured to traverse in the present 
region. 

The ship was constantlx' leaving the American 
coast, before a strong gale from the north-east. 
Macy knew that all or nearly all tlie islands in the 
Pacific were laid down, upon the coiiuuon charts 
then in use, imperfectly: and that others were grow- 
ing out of the Avater, from day to day. by the sh)W 
but sure process of deposit of tliat hiiiUJiiif/ ironn, to 
which the coral islands in the Pa<'ific owe Iheir 
origin. He found himself dashing in among these 
nund^erless isles, without the power of controlling 
his noble ship, except in keeping her steadily driv- 
ing before the wind. The perils of these seas at such 
a time are great and inappreciable. The heart of 



90 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

fSeth "was dismayed : — but the crew, who never 
troubled themselves with the intricacies of naviga- 
tion, were as yet unaware of the extent of their 
danger. They were active and on the alert, and 
quick to obey every command about the deck; but 
no man dared to ascend the shrouds, indeed, >Seth 
woidd sooner lose his masts than his men. The spars 
might possibly l)e ])rcserved by running with the 
wind : l)ut it was sure destruction to the individual 
to order a man aloft. He could control nothing — 
remedy nothing ; — for the inasts and spars bent and 
quivered like the leaves of the aspen, while the 
cordage rattled to and fro. as if swayed by a 
thousand furies. 

. For two days the gale held on in its turbulent 
jiury. lashing the ocean into foam, and forcing the 
billows mountain high. Island after island was 
passed, of that countless number that stud the 
Paciiic ; — some l)arren, some covered Avith verdure 
and trees, — but all so low as to be but just verging 
above the water. Some were peopled Avitli iiaked 
inhabitants, who ran along the shore, and clapped 
their hands in wonder at the sti'ange sight of the 
.ship, which they mistook for some huge animal rush- 
ing l)y with inimitable sjieed. No haven appeared in 
sight to Avhich to My for shelter; and the seanumship 
of every man was tried to the uttermost, in ujanoniver- 
ing to escape shipwreck upon thesi^ inlios])itable 
shores. The stormsails were tri*^! ; ])n1 before they 
Avere Avell hoisted they were torn to ribbons, and the 
flapping shreds became knotted, lilce thongs, in an 
instant. 



MIRIAM COFFIN-FIGHT WITH CANNIBALS. 91 

The night of the second day set in. The crew by 
this time had become acquainted with all the dangers 
of their fearful progress. The first day had been 
passed without meeting with many islands: but, 
with the experience of the second, they now saw 
nothing but the horrors of death before them at 
every plunge. Still they were bold and courageous, 
and blenched not. They were ready to use all 
human means for their preservation; but they were 
deeply impressed with the belief that their time was 
come, and that all exertion would be unavailing, 
among the dangerous archipelagos through which 
they Avere forced to thread their uncertain way. The 
night was dark: and the look-out. upon the l)ows, 
while endeavouring to pierce the gloom. declaKcd 
from time to time, as he was hailed in the pauses of 
the storm, that he rould not distinguish the end of 
the boAvsprit. Thunder and lightning now accom- 
panied the blast. The roar of the one seemed to give 
notice that all Pandemonium was let loose, while the 
vivid lightning, so terrible and impressive at other 
times, was uoav a relief to the terror-stricken men 
who eagerly strained their eyes in the direction of 
the ship's course, whenever it sent forth its strong 
lurid coruscation upon the waters. Flash after flash 
gave them a momentary reprieve, and shoAved them, 
as yet, clear sea-room ahead. 

The night Avas considerably advanced Avhen the 
fierce tempest began to lull. Hope, for the first time, 
sprung up in the bosoms of all. The ship Avas uoav 
brought Avith her side to the Avind. and lier speed to 
leeAvard Avas consequently greatly diminished. Sails 



92 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

were about being set to keep the ship in her position, 
when a strong flash of lightning lu'ought a renewal 
of all their dangers. 

"Land on the lee-boAv!" resounded from twenty 
voices. 

"Let go the anchor!'' shouted the captain; but 
before the order eould be executed, the ship struck 
and became immovable. The shock was not severe, 
but seemed to produce a sort of grating sound, as if 
the keel was running like a sleigh-runner over the 
ground. 

After the first confusion subsided, it was discov- 
ered, by the flashes of the lightning, that the ship, 
after being brought to the wind, had worked herself, 
by the aid of a strong current, around a projecting 
point of land, and had grounded, at some distance 
from the shore, on the lee-side of a high island. As 
yet it could not be discovered whether the sitiiation 
was dangerous, or whether the shij) could be got off 
at a favourable state of the tide. It was with great 
joy, however, that the pumps were sounded, and no 
leak appeared. The ship, in a few minutes, gently 
heeled over, and showed that the tide was receding. 
It was determined to Avait for the dawn of day, and 
for the reflux of the tide, before any measures should 
be taken to relieve the ship. The eyelids of the 
sailors Avere, by this time, almost glued together with 
watching and fatigue. They had been constantly 
and fearfully occupied for more than two days, 
without a wink of sleep; and deep anxiety had de- 
prived them of all appetite for food. Noav all was 
comparatively safe, and they were fain to seek 



MIRIAM COFFIN— FIGHT WITH CANNIBALS. 93 

nourishment, and repose for their worn bodies. The 
captain alone slept not. He continued walking the 
deck until morning. The storm had by that time 
ceased altogether. 

^Vs the day broke, the situatimi of the ship ])e- 
came api)arent. Her keel was found to be slightly 
sunk in a yielding bed of coral branches, and the 
vessel lay about two miles from the shore of a well- 
wooded island, of large dimensions. By sunrise the 
tide was on the flood, and all hands Avere called to 
assist in constructing a raft of the spare spars, in 
order to lighten the ship of such heavy articles as 
could be got at readily. The longboat was launched; 
and that, as well as the (juarter boats, were filled to 
overflowing with provisions and water casks, whose 
contents had as yet been undisturbed. The raft, too, 
groaned under its burthen; and everything Avas got 
ready to heave the ship (jff when the tide should l>e 
at its height. 

When all Avas prepared, Macy caused a spare boat 
to be manned, and carried off a small kedge ajichor 
to a suitable distance from tlie ship, where, carefully 
dropping it, the warp was hove taut on board, and 
kept ready to take the first advantage when the ship 
should float clear of the reef. He now heedfully 
sounded the passage by which he had entered upon 
this dangerous ground, and noted the bearings and 
distances of the crooked channel. At times, shoal- 
ing the water upon the steep sides of the coral 
banks, he ordered his men to rest upon their oars 
for a minute, to enable him to look at the brilliant 
scene beneath him. 



94 SPUN- YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

Cohnnns and spire.s of variegated coral shot up 
from the bottom of the sea, assuming the appearance 
of architectural regularity, which, with but little 
stretch of the imagination, might have passed for 
gothic ruins of spar, changing the hues of its mate- 
rial as the bright sun darted its rays directly or 
obliquely upon its varying surface of stone and ad- 
hering shell, until all other colours were blended 
with the green of the water in unfathomable depths. 
Here and there the bright-hued tropical fisb would 
dart across the eye. or gently swim out from the 
recesses of the rocks, or carelessly approach the sur- 
face, as if to flaunt its surpassing beauty of inter- 
mingled tints of gold and silver, in the strong light 
of the sun. No comparison between the rich. si)ark- 
liug dyes of the flshes that ])lay between the glowing 
tropics, among the ever-changing coral reefs of the 
Pacitic. can be instituted with those of the piscatory 
tribes of any other seas. 

Maey had scarcely completed his surveys, when he 
espied a stealthy gathering of natives on the shore, 
and a launching and mustering of warlike canoes, 
with javelins and missiles bristling above the heacis 
of the savages as they put off towards the ship. The 
whale-boat was instantly i)ut in motion, and a race 
for life commenced. The natives manoeuvred to cut 
Macy off; — but the sinewy rowers bent to their oars 
with Herculean vigour. The boat reached the ship, 
and the last man sprang into the chains just in time 
to avoid the stroke of a Avell-poised lance, which was 
aimed to pin him to the side of the vessel. 

The ship was now surrounded with savages of 



MIRIAM COFFIN— FIGHT WITH CANNIBALS. 93 

fierce and friii'htt'iil aspect, juul fiiniis of o-iyantie 
mould. Already Avei'e the natives claiuheriiig up the 
sides of the vessel ; but the ere^v of the Graiu])ns were 
prepared for their re('('[)ti()ii. They liad ol)served 
their hostile ajjin-oaeh. and hastily nnistered their 
hari)oons. their lances, and their hlnliher-spades, — 
tools always kept in order by the Avliale-tishernien. 
— gleaming' with brightness, and trenchant as a well- 
tempered razor. As the assailants showed their 
ferocious heads aliove the bulwarks, they were 
pricked off with the ready Aveapons of the crew, and 
forced, repeatedly, to loosi' their lu)ld and plunge 
into the water. But they were undismayed ])y this 
species of resistance, which was nearly allied to their 
own mode of warfare of clubs and javelins, slings 
and arrows, and nnu-e-hanuners of stone — all of 
which the savage of some of the South Sea islands 
wields with inimitable^ skill. They are missile im- 
plements with which his hand is made familiar from 
his childhood. 

Again and again the dark warriors returned to the 
assault; and as often Avere repulsed l)y the active 
crew. Avho handled their weapons with as much dex- 
terity as their assailants, but Avith far less exposure 
— being protected by the thick jjlanking of the ship's 
buhvark. But this defensive Avarfare served only to 
exasperate the savages. aa'Iio Avere spared by tin; 
American creAV from motives of singer humanity. If 
Avounded at all. they Avere only slightly pricked by 
the harpoons and lances of the Nantucketers. 

By this time. hoAvever. the number of Avar-canoes 
and natiA'es had become greatlv augmented; and 



96 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

they were skillfully arranged in several formidable 
divisions, for the evident purpose of making a simul- 
taneous attack upon various parts of the ship. Two 
divisions drew off u])()n the boM's. and an equal 
liumber took their positions under the quarters; 
while the sides of the ship were menaced with a 
countless multitude, that advanced in an array that 
would do credit to the tactics of an experienced 
commander. 

]Macy hastily made his dispositions to anticipate 
the assaidt, and stationed his men under cover of the 
various points which it was presumed would be at- 
tacked. The captain then harangued his men with 
few, but impressive Avords : — 

"We must now fight," said he, "in good earnest, 
niy boys, or be murdered and eaten by those horrid 
cannibals. I. for one, will not be captured alive. If 
there is a man among you that shrinks from the 
battle, or from the sight of blood, let him go below, 
and not encumber us Avith his presence. There must 
be no more pricking: every stroke must be a home 
thrust ; and every thrust Ave give Avitli our irons 
must let daylight through a savage. We must, from 
necessity, kill Avithout remorse, or be, ourseh'^es, 
crushed in a tAvinkling! — Who goes below?" 

"Not I, — nor I, — nor /!" was responded by every 
man of the creAv, as they clutched their Aveapons 
Avith earnestness. 

"Will you all stand by me, then, and folloAV my 
example ? ' ' 

"Ay— to the death!" AA-as the united reply. 

"Be readA', then; and the first savage that touches 



MIRIAM COFFIN— FIGHT WITH CANNIBALS. 97 

the deck — pin him with the harpoon, — in short, bleed 
him as you would a whale — and be sure to strike 
home! — There will be no more children's play, or [ 
miss my guess as to the intention of their present 
preparations. ' ' 

]\[acy now headed up an empty e;isk near the main- 
mast, and quickly collected all the spare weapons. 
With one stroke of the cooper's adz he stove in the 
head, and planted his sharp irons therein, as a sort 
of arsenal, or arm-chest in reserve, ready to be re- 
sorted to by any of the crew who miglit h)se his 
weapon in the conflict. 

The native armament came boldl}' on. in the most 
approved order, but in perfect silence. Suddenly 
the sound of a single conch was heard, and the 
savages instantaneously rose in their canoes, 
brandished their spears, and shouted their formid- 
able war-ery! The men in the Grampus rung out a 
shout of defiance in return. But they had no sooner 
shown their heads above the rail of the Imlwjirk, 
than the savages poured in upon them a clouil of 
stones and arrows, that seemed almost to darken the 
air with their flight. No damage, however, was done 
to the crew, as, after giving their shout, they anti- 
cipated the action of the assailants by covering 
themselves immediately. The natives Avaited for 
some answer to their fire; but perceiving no demon- 
stration of its being returned from the ship, they 
pulled up to her sides, and sprang into tlie chains 
and rigging. They had no sooner effeeted a lodg- 
ment there, than some two score of the]n. who were 
gathering themselves for a spring upon the deck, 



98 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

were obliged to loose their hold, and they fell back- 
wards into their eanoes, or into the sea. Before 
they touched the water, they were dead. They were 
pierced with the weapons of the whalers, and their 
life-blood dyed the sea with crimson. 

The savages of those far-off isles of the sea are 
not, however, daunted at the sight of suffering or of 
death, when it comes in a way that is comprehensible 
to their obtuse faculties. They saw their fellows fall 
by weapons similar in shape to their own, and they 
were, of course, accustomed to that mode of Avar- 
fare. They beheld thousands of their warriors still 
alive and full of eagerness for the tight; and they 
had been accustomed to see the tribes of other isles 
yield only When the power of physical resistance, 
numerically speaking, was nearly annihilated. They 
saw, also, that the numbers of their enemy were as 
but a drop to the bucket, when compared to their 
own host of warriors, and that their foothold was 
upon a diminutive spot, growing, as they imagined, 
out of the sea, in the shape of a contemptible islet. 

The signal for assault was again sounded, and the 
war-whoop swelled upon the air in discordant shrieks. 
The canoes suddenly and vigorously pulled up to the 
ship again, and the natives seemed to vie with each 
other for the honour of scaling the ramparts. But 
the bar])ed weapons of the crew met them as their 
breasts were elevated above the bulwark, and they 
were transfixed on the spot. Some of the lances 
and harpoons were secured to th(> ship ))y whaling 
lines attached to belaying-pins; and. as the sable 
victims fell beneath their deadlv touch, their writh- 



MIRIAM COFFIN-FIGHT WITH CANNIBALS. 99 

ing agonies were horrifying. But humanity could 
not now be propitiated. Self-preservation, which is 
declared to be ''the fii"st law of nature," was the 
uppermost consideration. As the savages fell along- 
side, the smooth lances withdrew from their bodies, 
and were quickly regained by the crew. Not so, 
however, with the harpoons. The bodies of soine of 
the slain hung, upon the barbed steel, by the side of 
the ship; and frequently the irons could not be re- 
covered by those who had Avielded them, without ex- 
posure to the constantly })rojected missiles of the 
assailants. 

Resort was now liad to the ai>ienal of fScth ; but 
the weapons of the cask were soon i)ut hors de combat 
in the same manner, and only a few lances and 
blubber-spades remained in the hands of the de- 
fenders. Each of the harpoons that hung over the 
sides of the ship held the body of a dead savage sus- 
pended midway, serving for the foothold of fresh 
assailants to ascend. The cords were cut from 
necessity, and the carrion-carcasses dropped lieavily 
into the water. 

The means of defence were greatly exhausted by 
this procedure, and the sailors Avere becoming weary 
in their active and alarming labour. But the voice 
of Seth arose, encouragingly, above the din of battle. 

"Fight on, my brave boys?" shouted IMacy : "'fight 
on! We have already slain our hundreds — and. 
thank God. not a man of the crew is hurt ! Strike 
boldly — kill — kill the black brutes! — Drive it home 
there on the lee-bow. Repel the savages from the 
larboard ((uarter! Slay the rascals at the weather 



100 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

gangway I Bravely done, my lads ! Now follow me, 
my boys, to the forecastle — away with them, before 
they gather their limbs to use their weapons. If we 
give them footliold we are gone! Aha I That swoop 
was well executed! Folh)w me once more! — down 
with the savages from the starl)()ard (quarter! Grod! 
• — they are pouring over the bow again! All hands 
rush to the forecastle, Avhile I sweep with my single 
lance, the few that are clambering over that taff- 
rail!" 

Macy could not be everywhere ; and though he 
was well imitated in the business of extirpating 
nearly a whole savage generation, he found his de- 
voted ship assailed at so many points at once, that 
his hopes began to flag. With one broad sweep of 
his lance-blade, similar to that l)y which a mounted 
dragoon would mow down a whole rank of infantry, 
lie cleared the starboard c^uarter rail of some half 
dozen heads that were rising into view ; and jump- 
ing to the larboard quarter, he performed the same 
service to as many more, — while every individual of 
his crew was bravely battling for existence along 
the waist and on the forecastle. 

Suddenly a giant-savage made a spring over the 
bows ; and, seizing the first mate from behind, hurled 
him to the deck instantaneously, as if he were but an 
infant in his grasp. He raised his stone hatchet over 
his head to despatch the faithful officer. Though 
Macy's body did not possess the poAver of ubiquity, 
his eye was everywhere. He has just sent his last 
harpoon through the carcass of a desperate native, 
and, as it fell over the quarter, he caught sight of 



MIRIAM COFFIN-FIGHT WITH CANNIBALS. 101 

the prostrate mate. With one bound from the 
quarter-deck Macy reached the arm-cask at the 
mainmast, and seized the only instrument remain- 
ing. It was a blubber-spade. Quick as thought the 
keen instrument was balanced in his right hand, 
and it darted, gleaming in the sun like a lightning- 
flash. Before the mace of the savage commenced its 
descent towards the skull of the mate, the head of 
the brute, cleanly severed from its trunk, rolled 
upon the deck, "grinning horribly a ghastly smile!" 
The unerring spade, having done its office, pitched 
upon the deck beyond, and its sharp blade entered 
a full inch into the planking. 

"Mate! thou art redeemed from the very jaws of 
death!'' shouted Seth. 

"I thank thee for the well-aimed blow." replied 
the mate. He rose on the instant, and threw the 
headless body over into the sea, and hurled the head 
after it high into the air. It descended into the 
canoe of the chief, and as he held it up by the hair 
before his followers, a shout of fury and revenge 
was raised by the savage host. 

It was plain, by the conduct of the savages that 
they were more than ever infuriated at their re- 
peated discomfitures ; and it Avas equally apparent to 
Macy that it Avould be unavailing to wage war much 
longer. His means of defence, all but a few well- 
tried lances, were exhausted ; and he discovered 
several of his harpoons in the hands of his enemies, 
which had been cut loose from their fastenings, and 
withdrawn from the bodies of the slain. 

The act of the mate, in throAving over the head of 



102 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

the decapitated warrior, had unexpectedly created a 
diversion among the natives; and they ceased, by 
common consent, from their attack upon the ship, 
to listen to an angr^- harangue from their chief. 

Macy descended to his cabin. He reappeared in a 
moment with a weapon in his hand, heretofore for- 
gotten. It was a musket, (and the only one on 
board,) which he had occasionally used on former 
voyages for a fowling piece. He had barely time to 
charge the gun, and to slip a bullet into the barrel, 
before the war-whoop was again raised. 

' ' They come once more ! ' ' cried Macy. ' ' To your 
posts, inen,- — and quail not. Look to your irons — 
and be careful to keep them well in hand. We have 
lost too many already: but by the favour of Provi- 
dence, — ^who hath Avritten that 'the battle is not 
always to the strong,' — we will send a hundred more 
of the cannibals to their long account before we 
yield!" 

"Ay, ay! — never fear for us!" shouted the men 
cheerfully. 

"'Brave hearts !"said ]Macy. "'Your day's work has 
been a bloody one: may Grod grant us deliverance 
from this unlooked-for danger! And now." said 
Macy, addressing, unconsciously, his solitary gun, 
"fail me not in this strait — for thou hast never 
failed me yet. even when pointed against the swift 
sea-fowl on the wing!" 

The canoe of the chief led the van of the attack, 
this time: and his followers, seeing the immense 
number of their slain brethren floating round them, 
and that no impression had as yet been made upon 



MIRIAM COFFIN-FIGHT WITH CA NNIBALS. 103 

the ship, although her sides bristled with arrows, 
were fain to avail themselves of his experience and 
encouraging example. 

Macy now showed his body over the railing of the 
quarter. The chief instantly stood up in his ap- 
proaching canoe, and, elevating his long javelin, he 
shook tlie pole of his lance in the air, in a menacing 
attitude, as if trying its elastic strength before 
hurling it at the unprotected body of Setli. 

The captain suffered the canoe to come within half 
musket-shot of the ship. Avheu he levelled his piece 
with a steady aim. It flashed ! — and instantly the 
savage chief, in the act of speeding his lance at Seth, 
fell dead into the arms of his attendants. The ball 
had entered his heart. The report of the gun, and 
the unaccountable condition of their leader, appalled 
the invaders. ^lany of them jumped tumultuously 
into the water, to escape the vengeance of the light- 
ning tube, and the displeasiu'e of their deity, whose 
interposition, and whose warning voice, they be- 
lieved were exerted against them. 

The panic-struck savages fled to their island in 
confusion, uttering horrid shrieks, and shouting 
their dissonant war-cries in disappointed rage. 

The coast Avas noAv dear, and no time was to be 
lost. The kedgc was tried; and. to the nnboimded 
joy of all on board, the ship yielded slowly to the 
pull upon the hawser. She floated once more freely 
in her element! — Iler sails were set. and a light 
breeze wafted the stately vessel safel>- through the 
channel of coral )'ocks, and away forever from these 
inhospitable shores. 



104 SPUN- YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

Whaling in the Pacific. 

It took many days for the Grampus to regain her 
lost ground. She had been driven so far to the 
Westward, and had wandered among so many isles 
unknown to tlie navigators of the day, that her 
commander deemed it prudent to return by slow 
stages ; and at night either to heave to. or to arrest 
her ordinary progress, by shortening the canvas to 
the fewest possible sails. lie was thus necessarily 
obliged to feel his way among those groups that, at 
a subsequent day, appeared upon the charts under 
the names of "the Navigators." and *"the Society 
Islands," and "the ^Marquesas." By the time that 
Setli was able to Avork his ship into the harbor of 
Charles Island, (one of the (lallipagos), the time 
appointed for his meeting Coleman had expired. 
It was, therefore, with much gratification that he 
found his consort had arrived before him, and was 
still waiting at anchor within tlie harbour: — for 
much of his whaling apparatus, and all his best 
provisions, were exhausted, and he was running short 
of water. The supplies from the Leviathan would be 
welcome and seasonable; and what Avith the expected 
grunters, and fowl, and vegetables from the coast, 
and the terrapin from the island, the captain of 
the Grampus hoped to furnish the means of refresh- 
ing his men, after their long and arduous toils, and 



MIRIAM COFFIN— WHALING IN THE PACIFIC. 1 05 

to recruit them thoroughly for whaling operations. It 
was his intention, therefore, after dividing the provi- 
sions between the two ships, to remain at anchor for a 
few days, to allow his crew time for recreation, as well 
as to take in a supply of turtle. 

Upon hailing the Leviathan, as the Grampus 
dropped her anchor, Seth had been answered by the 
mate of the former, and duly informed that Jonathan 
was on board and well; but to his inquiries about 
provisions, the mate made some unsatisfactory reply, 
and desired Seth to come on 1)oard the Leviathan. 
The anchor of tlic Grampus was no sooner cast, than 
Macy manned his boat and boarded the Leviathan. 
To his surprise, when he mounted the deck, he found 
that Jonathan was not there to receive him, nor to 
offer those little courtesies, and make those inquiries 
after his welfare, which are usual upon such occasions, 
and especially between those who consort together in 
their business. 

There is but little ceremony in whale-ships: but 
Macy at least expected, from his previous intimacy 
with Coleman, and from the fact that he had been so 
long and unaccountably away, that the latter would 
be anxious to ask after the ])articulars of his voyage. 
Seth walked aft, and was about to enter the cabin, 
when the well-remembered tones of Coleman's violin 
struck upon his eaiv It miglit be nothing nuire than 
a freak of his brother captain, who, as we have else- 
where hinted, had the reputation of being an odd-fish. 
But Seth was still more surprised when he found 
Jonathan snugly stowed in his berth, sawing away in 
his recumbent position, and not deigning to notice his 



106 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

visitor. jMacy stood motionless for a time, but at last 
his patience gave way, and he hailed the violinist 
rather crustily in the midst of his performance. 

"Hello!" — ^no answer. "Jonathan!" — still no 
reply. ' * I say, Captain Coleman ! ' ' 

"I hear thee," said Jonathan, at last; l)ut the fiddle 
still went on. 

"What the devil is the meaning- of this foolery?" 
exclaimed ^Macy. 

"Don't interrupt the symphony, and thou shalt 
hear directly," replied Jonathan. 

Hereupon Jonathan accompanied his violin with 
words which seemed to Macy to have been composed 
for the occasion, to carry out one of Coleman's dry 
and puzzling jokes. The stave, uplifted, ran as 
follows : 

' ' We sailed for the shore, 
And North-east we bore, 
And drove a trenien-di-ous trade.'* 

"Aha!" interrupted >Macy, while his eyes bright- 
ened, "thou hast been successful then; — but what 
provisions did'st thou bring?" 

"Thou marrest the music, friend ^lacy; — listen to 
the end, and thou wilt be duly enlightened," replied 
Coleman, and he again sawed and sung away : — 

"The oil is all sold, 
And the money's all told. 
And a d — 1 of a v'vaye we have ina<le!'' 

' ' Well, well— enough of that, ' ' said j\Iacy .—' ' Come, 
tell me in plain prose al)out the provisions." 

"I shall never be able to instruct thee in the melo- 
dies and the harmonics, if thou dost not refrain from 



MIRIAM COFFIN -WHALING IN THE PACIFIC. 107 

interrupting me. The stave must always be sung 
over from the repeat : — 

"The oil is all sold, 
Aud the money's all told, 
And a d — 1 of a v'yage we have made! " 

"There!" continued Jonathan, "since thou hast 
heard me out, thou shalt now learn the particulars of 
our fresh provisions." 

"Well! — what hast thou got that is fresh and 
good?" demanded Seth, w'hile his mouth watered in 
expectation. 

' ' Tarrapin ! ' ' replied Jonathan. 

"Oh. that of course ! — l)ut I don't mean that sort oL" 
food, for we have it here at Charles' Island, for the 
trouble of picking on't up.— What else"?" 

"Tarrapin!" repeated Jonatlian. 

"Wliat! — no hogs— no fruit — no potatoes — no — " 

"No! — Tarrapin, 1 say again; — and nothing else 
but tarrapin wilt thou find on board the good ship 
Leviathan, in the shape of fresh provisions." 

"What!" exclaimed Seth, in blank amazement. 

"All true as a book;" replied Jonathan; "The 
steward shall swear to it on the almanac, or on 
Napier's Book of Tables, if tliou think 'st the oath 
improved by it, and doubt'st the truth of my aftirma- 
tion." 

"In heaven's name, Coleman," said Macy, "thou 
must be joking; — thou had'st forty barrels of oil, and 
thou hast disposed of it — ?" 

Jonathan struck up. in answer — 

' ' The oil is all sold, 
And the money's all told. 
And a d — 1 of a v'gage " 



108 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUC KET. 

"The joke may be a good one to thee/' interrupted 
Seth as he began to ascend the cabin ladder: "and I 
will leave thee to enjoy it alone. 1 have heard of Nero 
fiddling while Rome was on fire ; and thou remindest 
me of his criminal unconcern in the midst of the 
people's calamity. — Hut thou wilt, of course, account 
to the crews and to Jethro for the oil?" 

' ' Thou never spoke a truer word in all thy life : — 
the forty barrels of right-whale oil at the market-price, 
are already logged against me. by my own direc- 
tion," replied Jonathan. 

"But what became of the avails?" demanded Seth. 

' ' That is my own secret ; — and it must remain so, ' ' 
said Coleman. 

"So be it." said Seth. "thou hast only delayed the 
commencement of our operations for another month. 
Tomorrow I shall set sail for some port on the main, 
and lay in my own provisions. Thou must, hereafter, 
find thy own means to furnish thy ship. Spare oil is 
too precious, at the present moment, to allow of my 
offering to share again with thee." 

"Nay," replied Jonathan, "and if thou goest to- 
morrow, I will go witli thee. I have a hold full of 
tarrapin, which I will willingly divide with thee; and 
thou knowest they are worth all the grunters in the 
world; — but the vegetables, 1 grant thee, are somewhat 
scarce, just now. 

"Tliou wilt consult thy own pleasure about leaving 
the anchorage : — but, mark me ! — I will not share a 
single shilling's worth of oil, nor an ounce of provi- 
sions with thee," said Seth, seriously, and in a deter- 
mined manner. 



MIRIAM COFFIN— WHALING IN THE PACIFIC. 109 

Hereupon Seth stepped over tlie gangway into his 
boat, which he found loaded, almost to the gunwale, 
with terrapin, and his men busied in knocking down 
the heads of the l)rutes witli the oar-blades, as thcy 
attempted to crawl over the side. The mate of the 
Leviathan had placed the seasonable supply there, in 
conformity with the secret ordering of Jonathan; — 
and Seth, finding how matters were, could not help 
casting up his ej^e, by way of inquiry ; but, seeing the 
quizzical phiz of Coleman peering over the quarter, 
he could not avoid laughing aloud at this most accept- 
able manner of repairing damages. Seth pushed off, 
in renewed good humour; and in an hour's time his 
crew were feasting sumptuously, and in a way that 
they had not feasted before for many a day. 

The secret of Jonathan's failure to supply provi- 
sions, was well kept for a time: but, eventually, it 
leaked out, that he had been entrapped, by complai- 
sant and accommodating sharpers, on shore ; and there 
was something said about the bright eyes and the ruby 
lips of his entertainers, and the drugged quality of the 
circling wine. But we will draw the veil, in all 
charity. No man passes through the world without 
his faux pas; and the misfortune of Jonathan served 
only to accumulate the proofs that human nature is 
weak, — and liable, in tlie best families, and even 
among Quakers, to accidental besetments.- 

Seth ]\racy was true to his word. The meridian sun 
of the next day saw liim clear from the currents and 
under-tows of the "'Enchanted Islands," as the 
Gallipagos are called by some navigators, because of 
the difficulty of escaping from the powerful eddies 



1 10 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

and counter streams, that whirl with peculiar force 
and rai)idity among the volcanic cluster. The barque 
of Jonathan was not behind the Grampus. When Seth 
loosed his sails, Jonathan's were loosed also ; and when 
the anchor of the Grampus A\as heaved up, that of the 
Leviathan was tripped as soon ; — and they sailed forth 
again ui)on the broad Pacific together. 

The heads of the ships pointed to Valparaiso, upon 
tlie South American coast. The bright, liurning sun 
of the Equatorial seas had set and risen again, since 
they had taken their departure, when, at a long dis- 
tance in the direction they were steering, the man at 
the mast-head descried tiny moving specs upon the 
ocean, which seemed occasionally to appear and dis- 
appear. The ships and these uncertain objects 
approached each other steadily, until they were made 
out to be a vast scliool of spermaeetti whales, sporting 
and gamboling, and blowing and diving, as if, in 
truth, they were the school of a pedagogue let loose 
from thraldom, and rejoicing in their lilierty. 

The information from aloft set everything in motion 
on deck. Boats were cleared, irons prepared, lines 
coiled : and the men stretched themselves, as if rousing 
from the lethargy or weariness ; and the laugh and the 
joke, which had been somewhat scarce of late, were 
bandied about in the utmost glee. The landsmen's 
hearts beat tumultuously, in anticipation of their first 
feat among the giants of the water. 

There was one, however, on board the Leviathan, 
who, amidst the animated bustle which precedes an 
attack upon a school of whales, did not partake of the 
cheerfulness of his fellows. "We need scarcelv sav that 



MIRIAM COFFIN— WHALING IN THE PACIFIC. 1 1 1 

the iiulividual was Tliuinas Starhiick. Tliere was a 
determined soberness in his face and demeanour, from 
the moment the cry from the mast-head was uttered, 
which, at first, drew u[)()n liiiii the bantering jil)es 
and jokes of his mess-mates; but he heard thfiri with- 
out resentment, and he turned off tlieir ill-1inied 
jests with unangered answers. There was a deep 
gloom preying upon his- spirits; and Avhile all others 
seemed to be in high good humour, and "eager for 
the fray," — he was listless and desponding. The 
fortune-teller's words had been forgotten, until 
now; — but the sight of the approaching whales, and 
the active, noisy preparation for attack, brouglit all 
she had said afresh to his mciuoi-y. 

Starbuck, who was luirj)oouei- to one of the bt)ats, 
and a most important man in that capacity. Avas 
ashamed to show tlie wliite feather upon the first 
occasion that had been presented for signalizing 
himself upon the voyage ; — but the words of Judith 
rang in his ears, and he felt that he eonld not lightly 
disregard the omen. Stepping aft to the quarter- 
deck, as much to ask the advice of the captain, who 
was aware of the proi)hecy of the fortuiu'-teller. as 
to obtain permission to renuiin on board for the 
time, he held a few brief words with Jonathan. 

"Captain," said he. "I feel an unaccountable 
presentiment that the Avords of Judith Quary ai'e 
about to be fulfilled. I would fain disappoint tlie 
prophetess, if she be one; and. though I know my 
duty, and have heretofore accpiitted myself sufifi- 
eiently well to be named one of your boat-steei-ers, 
yet I am unwilling to go out upon tliis expedition 



112 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

Avitliout your positive commands. In short, I lack 
confidence today; and I come to ask 3'ou to appoint 
one of the crew as my substitute." 

■"Phcrc is no time to avgiie tliis thing now. ' re- 
plied the captain, "or 1 might give thee convincing 
proof that fortune-tellers cannot look into futurity. 
I respect thy feelings, Thomas, however thou may'st 
have come by them; and, therefore, I will neither 
urge nor command thee to go. Let it be as thou 
wishest: — if thou decline, I will appoint another in 
thy stead. ' ' 

Thomas Starbuck retired, with a heavy heart. He 
saAv that he had relinquished all chance of distin- 
guishing himself for the day; and the dishonour of 
staying on board at the ajjproaching crisis, with a 
troop of whales in sight of the ship, could probably 
never be wiped away. The thought, too, of what 
Ruth would say to his conduct when he should re- 
turn home, and, above all, the certainty of the im- 
putation of cowardice, which might be east in his 
teeth by his companions, made him half repent the 
steps he had taken. 

The crew had witnessed the interview of Starbuck 
with the captain, and guessed at the import of their 
conversation. 

"So!" said one of the men, within earshot of 
Thomas, "avc shall not have Starbuck 's company to- 
day, I s'pose. He's begged off, I'm sure, or he'd be 
taking his place at the for'ard oar. I wonder who's 
to be harpineersman for our boat, if lie don't go!" 

"A fnint heart never won fair lady," said another, 
who had lieard of his attachment to Ruth : for secrets 



MIRIAM COFFIN— WHALING IN THE PACIFIC. 1 13 

of that nature get whispered about among a ship's 
crew, especialh^ if thej' all come from a small place 
like Nantucket, where everybody's business and mo- 
tions are likely to be kntnvii and canvassed l)y liis 
neigbbour. 

*'He has reason to l)e ebicken-hearted today," 
observed a third, "about that fortune-telling a If air. 
Do you remember the morning we pullod oflC from 
Sherbourne? For my part. I'd a notion of going 
ashore again, for everybody looked so solemncholy 
that [ knew we'd have a misfortunate voyag(\ I'm 
glad he don't intend to go; I never knew Judith 
Quary to fail in her prediction." 

The whales Avere now near enough to lower the 
boats, and the crews jumped in and were ready to 
push off. in order to scatter themselves among the 
approaching animals, and thus multii)ly the chances 
of striking them, when they should attonpt to 
escape. Four boats pulled away from the Grampus, 
and instantly three more folloAved from the Levia- 
than. The fourth boat, connnanded by one of the 
mates, still lay alongside, waiting for the comple- 
ment of oarsmen, (to be made from those whose duty 
it was to remain on shipboard,) to supply the place 
of Starbuck. 

"On deck there!" bawled the impatient mate,, 
from the Avhaleboat. 

He was answered by one of the crew, from the 
gangAvay, who had been designated to supply the 
place of Starbuck. 

"Be quick!" said the mate, "or all the sport Avill 



114 SPUN- YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

be over, before we can get a chance at the whales. 
Hurry, man ! — hurry ! Jump in — jump in ! " 

Thomas now came to the gangway; and his irreso- 
lution gave way, as he saw his substitute about to 
let himself drop into his place in the bow of the 
boat. A flush of pride came into his face at the 
m.oment; — his resolution came back from very 
shame; — he seized the man by the shoulder, and 
drew him into the ship, and then rushed over the 
side, in an indescribable agony of mind. 

"Let life or death be on the i.ssue." said he. ms he 
pushed oft' desperately from the ship, "1 will 
go ! It shall never be said that Thonuis Starbuck 
disgraced his name, or his calling, by sluilking dis- 
honourably at a time like this. — Pull, boys, pull!" 
said he, aloiid, to his comrades, while he madly 
surged upon his oar. with a strength equal, at the 
moment, to that of all tlie other oarsmen. 

The commander of each ])oat innnediately singled 
out his whale, and gave chase with steady earnest- 
ness. The ships, in the mean Avhile, followed the 
course of the wliales and of the pursuing boats; — 
a sufficient number of hands being left on board to 
work the vessels. 

Macy and Coleman, with a promptness that is the 
I)eculiar recommendation of veteran whale-fisher- 
men, fastened at once to their whales, taking the 
first that came in their way, without regard to size. 

They proved to be young ones, that were still 
under the protection of their mothers. This was 
fortunate for the fishermen, for they fell an easy 
prey; and their mothers, too, keeping close to their 



MIRIAM COFFIN— WHALING IN THE PACIFIC. 1 13 

dead bodies, in a few miuutes more paid the forfeit 
of their unalienable affection. The other otitieers 
showed no lack of skill ; and. in ies.s than an hour, 
six spermacetti whales, of various sizes, were the 
fruits of the victorious assault. 

The mate of Coleman was more ambitious than 
the rest, and was determined, if possible, to strike 
the leader of the troop. He was of prodigious size, 
and worth any two of the others ; but he Avas wary 
and watchful, and led his pursuer a tiresome chase, 
far away from his mates ; and then, by a circuitous 
route, he came back again to his scattered convoy. 
Still did the baffled mate return to the charge, en- 
deavouring to head his stupendous antagonist as he 
should rise to blow. 

At last, the bubbling ripple from below indicated 
the approach of the animal to the surface; and a 
few vigorous pulls brought the boat to the spot 
where it was judged he would rise to its side. The 
oars were eased, and the word given to the har- 
pooner to ''stand up." The bow was turned to 
the spot; — the oarsmen rested on their oars, ready 
to back off; — and Starbuck stood erect, cleared his 
line, and balanced his iron. He placed himself in 
the posture for striking, and was bracing his knees 
to the bow. when the hump of the monster emerged 
from the water. It was a moment of indescribable 
anxiety; — but to none more than to the harpooner. 
But what was the consternation of all, when the 
head of the animal suddenly turned over! It is a 
motion made by a sperm-whale, preparatory to using 
his teeth upon an object floating upon the surface 



1 16 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

of the Avater. His huge iindei'jaw, armed with im- 
mense ivory tusks, parted with the rapidity of 
thought. The bow of the boat struck suddenly 
against his jaw. and poor Thomas, in the act of 
launching his harpoon, lost his foothold, and pitclied, 
headlong, into a living tomb! The jaws of the mon- 
ster closed upon his body, leaving the legs of his 
victim projecting from the mouth ! 

The frightened mate lost his presence of mind, 
and omitted to give the word to back off. He held 
his steering oar without the power of motion. But 
Imbert, new as he was to the scene, seeing the op- 
portunity to be avenged for the loss of his com- 
panion, seized the sharp lance of the mate, and 
plunged it to the hilt in the body of the whale, as he 
turned to escape. In an instant the boat and the 
crew were driven into the air, 1)y a stroke of the 
animal's tail. The frail bar(|ue was shivered into 
a thousand pieces; and the men bruised and lacer- 
ated, fell into the broad ocean. 

All that had thus transpired was seen from the 
ships, and boats were despatched forthwith to the 
relief of the wounded crew. Some had seized upon 
fragments of the wreck ; while others sustained 
themselves Avith pieces of broken oars, supported 
beneath by the strong saline buoyancy so eminently 
peculiar to the iinfathomable depths of the ocean. 

The unfortunate crcAv were resciied in time to 
witness the last agonies of the desperate whale. 

The animal, blind Avith rage, and feeling the sting 
of the death-Avound in his heart, Avhirled round the 
Khips. in irregular circles, for a short time, and then 



MIRJAM COFFIN- WHALING IN THE PACIFIC. 117 

descended. The crews lay upon their oars, watching 
where he would next appear, while the ships were 
hove to, to await the result. 

Suddenly, a mighty mass emerged from the water, 
and shot up perpendicularly, with inconceivable ve- 
locity, into the air. It was the whale ; — and the 
effort was his last expiring throe! He fell dead; — 
but, in his descent, he pitched headlong across the 
bows of the Grampus, and, in one fell SAvoop, carried 
away the entire forepart of the vessel ! 

The crew escaped, by throwing themselves into 
the boats alongside, and rowing quickly off. The 
gallant ship instantly filled with water, and settled 
awav from their sight. 



1 18 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 



CHAPTER IX. 

The Doivnfall of Miriam. 

A full year had passed since the departure of Jethro 
Coffin from Sherburne, and no tidings had, as yet, 
been received, intimating his intention to return. His 
protracted absence did not, however, create uneasiness 
in the minds of his friends; for, it must be borne in 
mind by the reader, that arrivals from England were, 
at that time, few and far between. There were not 
then, as now, regular days of departure for packets, 
and almost as regular periods of arrival. A year in- 
tervening, between the embarkation and return of an 
individual to tlie colonies, was therefore almost a cer- 
tainty — no matter liow trivial may have been the busi- 
ness, or the object, that called the voyager from his 
home. It is different now-a-days. The sixth part of 
that time is sufficient to make a passage to Europe and 
back again, and yet leave a reservation of a portion of 
the time, for the transaction of business, or the pureuit 
of pleasure. It is, with us, an age of fleet ships, skim- 
ming steam-boats, and flying rail-road vehicles, that 
almost annihilate time and distance. It is a mechani- 
cal age — an Augustan era, prolific in the develop- 
ment of mechanical genius. 

Soon after the ships of Jethro had doul)led The 
Horn, hostilities commenced between the mother coun- 
try and the colonies. It was, for the time, the death- 
blow to the prosperity of Nantucket; and the dis- 



MIRIAM COFFIN— THE DOWNFALL OF MIRIAM. 1 19 

tress which fell upon the people, as much from their 
isolated situation as from any other cause, was severe 
beyond measure. Their ships were swept from the 
ocean; their trade with the continent anniliilated, 
and, consequently, their supplies cut off. They were 
without the power of resistance, or of self-protection. 
They were subject alike to pillage from either party; 
and their flocks were carried away by both friend and 
foe. A fishing smack, with a single gun, could at any 
time lay the unresisting town under contribution. 
Each arrival from a whaling voyage, instead of fur- 
nishing the means of support to the inhabitants, was 
the cause of lessening their stores, by the introduction 
of an additional number of consumers. Interdicted, 
as they were, from intercourse witli the continent, — 
without grain, witliout bread, and without fuel — in 
short, without the common necessaries of life, but Avith 
abundant pecuniary means under other circumstanties, 
the islanders were reduced to a condition so straitened, 
that it was not only sad to contemplate, but ap]ialling 
to think of. 

It was in the midst of this general distress that the 
genius and cupidity of ]VIiriam Coffin shone forth, to 
the unfeigned astonishment of the islanders. Fore- 
seeing the advantages tbat must naturally accrue to 
her, by the course she had almost immediately adopted, 
she despatched one of her husband's smaller vessels to 
New- York, with a letter to Admiral Digby, who com- 
manded the squadrons cruising on our coast. In this 
paper she was careful to express her devoted loyalty 
to King George, and, with well-turned phrase, to rep- 
resent the extremities to wliicli the people were re- 



120 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

duced. ]\Iiriaiu concluded her epistle by humbly ask- 
ing permission to send her vessels to New- York, and 
the privilege of trading between that city and Sher- 
burne. 

To this arrangement the Admiral assented, and 
granted a free passport, running in the name of 
Miriam, to trade to and fro. But (as she had insinu- 
ated in her letter, that by far the largest portion of 
the people were rank whigs in principle) he gave her 
to understand that the privilege was the meed of her 
loyalty alon»% and not a boon to the people ; and there- 
fore that she, above all others, should enjoy a 
monopoly of the trade. 

This decision was precisely what ^Miriam aimed at. 
On the other hand, in order to prevent supplies from 
being introduced by the Americans, she took care to 
have the false information spread abroad, upon the 
neighbouring continent, that tlie islanders were all 
thorough-going tories, and adhered to the Crown. In 
this posture of affairs there was, of course, no sym- 
pathy for the Nantucket people, either from whig or 
tory. She thus succeeded in her plans, and for a con- 
siderable time the source of supply was confined to 
herself alone. 

Tn a short period after these successful arrange- 
ments had been effected, it ^vas observed that the ware- 
house of Miriam was groaning, not only with sub- 
stantial provisions of every sort, but even with such 
luxuries as the islanders had been accustomed to 
purchase in the days of their brightest prosperity. 
Her small vessels were constantly employed between 
the two ports : and rich(^s. witliout bouurls, flowed into 



MIRIAM COFFIN— THE DOWNFALL OF MIRIAM. 121 

her coffers. For her merchandise she would receive, 
in the way of barter, the oil and the candles of the 
island traders, at a large and ruinous discount to those 
who held tlie commodities; and when these were ex- 
hausted, she dealt with them for their ships at the 
M^harves. and for their houses, until she became pos- 
sessed of property, or the representatives of wealth, 
at least, in mortgages, to an amount exceeding her 
most sanguine dreams of abundance. 

By and ])y. however, it c;ime to pass that Miriam 
could no longer furnisli the ready and tangible means 
of exchange for foreign merehandise, when the oil and 
candles that slie had received in barter were all 
shipped off and exhausted. Her liens upon ships and 
houses were not a medium current with Britisli mer- 
chants and shopkeepers at New- York. Such securities 
were considered to precai-ious in their value to be 
objects of speculation to the foreigners. The ships 
and the houses, tliough the undisputed property of 
one party today, might eliange hands to-morrow, by 
the riglit of invasion and conquest. 

^Miriam, tlierefore. ])ethought herself of another 
scheme to give permanency to lier operations. Her 
mercantile credit, arising from the largeness and 
punctuality of her dealings and payments, was in good 
repute among the commercial dealers of the city; — • 
and she opened a negotiation in New-York, for a 
permanent supply of all needful stores and merchan- 
dise, upon her individual responsibility. She took the 
precaution, in order to prevent suspicion of her in- 
competency to act in the premises, to cause certified 
copies of her power of attorney to be circulated among 



122 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

her creditors there; but it was scarcely necessary, — 
for her previous success in trade had already estab- 
lislied her good name \A'ith the principal dealers in the 
place. These, as we liave hinted before, were mostly 
British merchants, who received countenance and pro- 
tection from the commander-in-chief of the British 
forces, Avhose lieadquarters were established at New- 
York. In place of her former exchanges of oil, which, 
being exhausted, could no longer be the circulating 
mediiun for ^Miriam, she deposited her own bonds (in 
the shape of judgment securities, that eould be en- 
forced at any moment,) with her mercliant creditors; 
and, for a season, they were as current, for the amount 
expressed upon their face, as if they had been 
exchequer notes. 

Not satisfied with the monopoly of a trade tliat was 
comi)aratively legitimate in its nature, ]Miriam opened 
a traffic with certain contraband dealers, whose smug- 
gling shallops, and privateering operations, were the 
source of much anxiet}' and vexation to the officers of 
the revenue, on various parts of the coast. While her 
dealings with New- York were carried on openly, those 
with the free-traders, or "South Sea Buccaneers," as 
the jealous inhabitants spitefully called them, were 
transacted in secret, and with a mystery which the 
shrewd and prying islanders could not penetrate. It 
was, in fact, mainly for the better prosecution of an 
illicit trade, that iMiriam liad built her country-house; 
although, ostensibly, she pretended to have construct- 
ed it for purposes of retirement. She had even had 
dealings with the smugglers befoi-e the war broke out. 

Small craft were seen hovering around the island, 



MIRIAM COFFIN-THE DOWNFALL OF MIRIAM. 123 

from time to time, whose suspicious manoeuvres were 
regarded with alarm and dissatisfaction by the people. 
Boats, gunwale-deep, had l)een seen to land, in the 
dusk of the evening, upon the beach in the vicinity 
of Quaise ; and their crews were observed to tiit hastily 
and stealthily to and fro, carrying small burthens in 
the direction of the mansion, and then disappearing 
uaccountably among a clump of bushes, from which 
they would shortly emerge and retrace their steps, 
without seeming to enter the l)uilding. The vessel, 
which awaited the return of the crew, would then 
spread her sails, and stand out from the bay. 

It was remarked, too, that a wing of Miriam's town- 
house underwent a great alteration about this period. 
Two large rooms, that before had been used as par- 
lours, were thrown into one, and shelves and counters 
were arranged for tlie reception of merchandise: and 
the capacious cellar was partitioned off into curious 
but commodious bins. By degrees the shelves were 
filled Avith costly dry-goods and cutler.y, and rare 
fancy articles from France and other European coun- 
tries; while the bins were stored with wines and 
liquors, wliich, it was suspected, were not brought into 
the island by tlie ordinary course of importation. 

The wealth of the Indies seemed to be at the com- 
mand of ^Miriam : and the gorgeousness of her estab- 
lishment, wliich she took all opportunities to flaunt in 
the eyes of the ]>eople, .showed forth like the stately 
pile and liveried household of a grandee of an empire, 
while all around was misery and wretchedness, and be- 
tokened poverty and decay. 

The exorbitant prices demanded and received by 



124 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

jMiriaui, for all the supplies i'urnished to the islanders, 
finally took the semblance of barefaced extortion. If 
people complained of the dearness of her commodities, 
she would coolly replace the goods on the shelves, and 
advise them to go where they could be furnished at a 
cheaper rate ; nor would slie again deal with the in- 
dividual wlio dared to question her prices. The 
inha])itants, becoming almost desperate from the 
inadequacy of their means, and tantalized by the daily 
exhibitions of plenty, temptingly placed before their 
longing eyes by ]\liriam, but which their exhausted 
means could not compass, began to feel that want and 
starvation would be their portion, even in the midst 
of abundance, if this alarming state of the times 
should continue. 

A shadow of a revenue office was still kept up in the 
town, the officers of which were in the pay and 
interest of the British government. The great mass 
of the people were, however, decidedly republican in 
their feelings and principles; and, in total disregard 
of the authority which the few officers of the crown 
still exerted, a meeting was called at the Town-House, 
to deliberate upon the means of relieving the general 
distress that prevailed. Some of the speakers openly 
hinted at the unfair practices of Miriam, and 
denounced her oppressive course in no measured 
terms. It Mas, among other things, deemed proper, 
as a preliminary^ measure for counteracting the 
approach of future and greater evils, that a new board 
of Selectmen should be chosen; and, of course, in act- 
ing upon this motion, those in power must necessarily 
be deposed. The old magistracy were of the tory 



MIRIAM COFFIN— THE DOWNFALL OF MIRIAM. 125 

interest, and, as such, the adherents of Miriam, and 
the connivers at, if not the participators in her 
unheard-of extortions. A new board, of whig com- 
plexion was tliereupon organized, and its first act was 
to petition the American Congress for relief. 

A messenger was fortliwitli dispatched, who ex- 
plained, in moving terms, the forlorn condition of the 
islanders to the assembled Congressional delegates. 
But that patriotic body, although deeply and sincerely 
commiserating the distress of the people, were alike 
too poor and powerless to afford efficient succour or 
protection. The only measure that could be adopted 
in this extrendty, involving a probability of efficacious 
relief to tlie suffering community, was the unanimous 
recommendation and consent of the Congress, that the 
Nantucket people should declare themselves neutral 
in the pending contest, and represent their condition 
to the British commander-in-chief. This suggestion 
was immediately acted upon : and indeed it was quite 
consonant to the peaceful religious doctrines of the 
people, who were all more or less imbued with the 
tenets of the Quakers, the prevailing sect, as we have 
elsewhere said, of the island. 

A new life seemed to invigorate the desponding 
inhabitants, at the prospect which now opened upon 
them. Combinations were immediately formed for the 
purpose of retaliating upon their oppressors. Like 
the patriotic women of the continent, who refused to 
partake of imported teas, the islandere thereafter 
utterly abstained from dealing with Miriam. Her 
goods rested upon the shelves, without a customer. 
Her provisions were thenceforth untasted; and a few 



126 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

scanty vegetables, laboi'iou.sly grubbed by tbe inhabi- 
tants, were made to supply the j)lace of her high- 
priced breadstuff's. 

While negotiations were going on at New York, and 
with the naval connnander of the station, the incensed 
Nantucketers undertook a secret expedition against 
Miriam's "South Sea Islanders." A party of some 
twenty resolute individuals, armed with instru- 
ments to which their hands were best accustomed, 
to wit. the lance and the harpoon, — lay in wait, 
night after night, around the country seat of 
Miriam, with the determination of intercepting her 
contraband supplies. At night-fall the conspirators, 
if Ave may so call them, might be seen straying 
singly, and Avithout any apparent purpose, near the 
outskirts of the town ; but the ]\Iill-Hills once passed, 
there was no further occasion for concealment, and 
they rapidly congregated at a given point, where 
their instruments of warfare were secreted among 
the bushes. Here, marshalling their forces, and 
every man being made acquainted Avith the signal 
for onslaught, the party took up their line of march 
for Quaise; and each one. secretly and silently 
ensconced himself behind some stunted bush, or pro- 
jecting object, awaiting the moment of attack. 

Again and again were the party foiled in their 
anticipated capture : and the smugglers escaped un- 
accountably, inasmuch as they made no visible en- 
trance or egress into or from the house. Regularly 
as the night would come, a small sail might be ob- 
served laying off and on; but as the dusk of the 
evening would gather, she would run in towards 



MIRIAM COFFIN— THE DOWNFALL OF MIRIAM. 127 

thf sliurf and entering the siaall liay that leads t<> 
Quaise, heave to opposite ^Miriam's house. It was 
sometimes observed that she would depart \\ith(»ut 
lowering her boat: — some private signal, probably, 
being omitted, which was necessary for encourage- 
ment to land. At other times it wonld boldly put 
off. and figures might be distinguished walking on 
the beach. Whatever was their ol)ject in lauding, it 
was observed that the silence of the night was un- 
broken by noise or bustle of any kind; and again 
they Avould leave, as they canu^. ol)serving a pro- 
found stillness in all their operations. 

The men from the town thought there mnst be 
something more in this, than the nn^'e pleasure oi 
coming into the bay and departing; and they de- 
termined to array their forces differentl.w Insttvul 
of closely investing the building as formerly, on the 
next evening they enlarged their circle, and planted 
sentinels near the landing place for closer observa- 
tion. The night Avas fitful, and dark masses of 
clonds obscured the moon at intervals, which, for 
the time, entirely concealed the approach of objects. 
The Avind blew in gnsts. and the surf tumbled in 
nj)Oii the outer beach Avith more than its usual com- 
motion. 

"Hark!"' said one of the sentinels, approaching 
his neighbour: "heard you nothing just noAV?" 

"No." replied his comrade: "nothing but the i*oar 
of the surf. I fear the night is too dark, and the 
wind too high for the purpose of the smugglers." 

At this moment a loud noise Avas heard above the 
monotonous roar of the sea. like the A'iolent flap- 



128 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

ping of a sail; and the moon, bursting suddenly 
forth from behind a dark cloud, displayed a small 
vessel in the act of coming to the wind. The boat, 
as usiinl. was lowci'od; and after a short detention 
alongside, during which a number of men appeared 
to be engaged in stowing away bundles and pack- 
ages in her bottom, she shoved off from the shallop. 
Three men employed themselves in rowing the yawl 
towards tlie shore, Avith oars mufiHed. Avhile a fourth 
stood up in the stern-sheets, and controlled her 
motions. 

A loAv whistle was heard to pass from sentinel to 
sentinel upon the shore. Avhich. without being, un- 
derstood, would have passed to stranger ears for the 
chirping of a cricket, or the tremulous note of a dis- 
turbed sea-bird. The band instantly contracted 
their circle at the signal, but left a wide opening for 
the smugglers to enter, if they should decide upon 
landing. 

The boat stnick the shore; and the men. jumping 
quickly out. hauled her up the beach. The sailors 
set to M^ork to unload the yawl of the various 
packages, and silently deposited them in a heap 
upon the dry sand, near a little spit or eminence, 
around which a small gully, or pathway, led to the 
upland. Directly over the brow of the slight hill, 
but at some distance to the right and left of the 
path, several of the townsmen were posted, with 
their bodies thrown flat upon the earth, but with 
eyes eagerly glaring over the little precipice upon 
the motions of the creAv. The boat, being entirely 
unladen, her hellock, or little kedge, Avas brought 



MIRIAM COFFIN— THE DOWNFALL OF MIRIAM. 129 

forth and planted in the sand, for the better se- 
curity of the yawl, whose stern was Avashed by a 
rising tide. 

•'Tom I" said oju' in a whisi)er. who api)eared to 
direct the motions of the others, "'mount the liilloek 
and see if the signal is still there.'' 

As the man ascended, the eyes of the ambushed 
islanders followed his steps, and glanced in the di- 
rection of the house. A faint light, heretofore un- 
observed, was perceptible from a thick bull's-eye of 
glass, placed in one of the shutters. All the rest of 
the building was enshrouded in darkness. The man 
descended, and in a low voice uttered the simple 
monosyllable. — ' ' Ay. ' ' 

"All's right, then!" replied the leader, in the 
same subdued tone: — "Bear a hand, men. and lift 
these packages. Take care to follow me, and stick 
close; and. d'ye hear? — on your lives utter not a 
single word, whatever you may see or hear. Come, 
— be lively noAV; this infernal cloudy night came 
near playing the devil with our little craft : we must 
hasten back to make sail upon her, or the wind will 
drive her ashore." 

The moon gave out her flickering light for a 
moment, as the sailors advanced. The proper place 
of deposit appeared to be gained, and the leader 
ordered the men to halt. 

"There!" whispered he, "throw down the bundles 
on this spot, and let us return for the others." 

"No thee don't, though!" exclaimed one of the 
sentinels, while his companions rushed to his aid. 
The driving clouds hid the moon auain. before the 



130 SPUN- YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

assailants could reach the spot where the sniugglers 
stood; and when she re-appeared, packages and crew 
had vanished ! Not a word had been spoken by the 
assailed; but the foremost assailant declared he had 
heard a slight rustling noise, as if the branches of 
some bushes, near at hand, had been parted. The 
harpoons of the invaders were thrust in among 
them in vain. The smugglers were unaccountably 
gone, but where to look for them was a mystery. 
They could not have escaped over the clear heath, 
for the circle of the Avatchers had been so suddenly 
and regularly contracted, that it was not possible 
they should have passed without being observed. 

The pursuit after the fugitive crew was soon 
abandoned; and it was thereupon determined that 
a i)ortion of the persons present should board the 
craft in the bay, and carry her by a coup de main, 
■ — while the remainder should enter the house of 
Miriam, and explore some of its mysteries. It was 
thought that the boat's crew must have taken refuge 
there, by some means of entrance unknown to those 
who had invested the building. 

Four i>ersons. well armed, answering to the num- 
ber that had come ashore in the boat, were selected 
for the purpose of taking possession of the sloop; 
and some eight or ten others attempted to gain en- 
trance into the house, — leaving a sufficient number 
on the outside, guarding all the passages of egress, 
to prevent the escape of the indwellers. 

The outer doors were tried, but did not yield to 
the pressure from without. A slight rap upon the 
door, such as might announce a neighbourly visit. 



MIRIAM COFFIN— THE DOWNFALL OF MIRIAM. 1 3 1 

was then given; and instantly the light from the 
bull's-eye was withdrawn. A door was almost im- 
mediately opened by an Indian domestic, who. the 
moment she saw the array of armed men, attempted 
to close the door in their faces. 

"Nay. — thou must not shut the door upon us," 
said the leader of the troops. "We would enter the 
house. ' ' 

"What for?" demanded the woman. 

"Thou wilt see directly. Come, stand out of the 
way there, — or we must put thee gently aside." 

"I will not!'* said she. "I am commanded not to 
admit strangers at this hour of the night." 

"Thou wilt not?" 

"No." 

"Then take the consequences." 

Saying this, the assailant drew back, and, with a 
heavy drive of his foot, stove the door off its hinges, 
and the servant rolled upon the floor of the entrance. 

An inner door Avas instantly opened by some in- 
visible hand, and a strong light came into the 
passage. The men rushed, rather tumultuously, into 
the room ; but the foremost had scarcely taken three 
steps into the apartment, before he recoiled upon 
his followers, at the sight of a woman! — It was 
Miriam Coffin. She stood at the upper end of the 
apartment, in perfect self-possession, and regarded 
the intruders with an eye of severity. Her stately 
form was drawn up to its full height, and displayed 
the commanding port of Majesty. As soon as the 
confusion among the men had somewhat subsided, 
thev took courage and came forward. 



132 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

"Well, g-entleiiieii !'' said ]\iiriain, sarcastically, 
''to what fortunate circumstance am I indebted for 
this kind and neighbourly visit?" 

The men looked at each other, withont replying. 
No si)okesman volunteered to apologize for their 
rudeness. 

''What!" exclaimed ]\[iriam, "will no one speak? 
— Brave men. like you. who can exert your hearty 
proAvess upon the door of my mansion, should surely 
be able to find words to address a lone woman 
withal! Come in, and take possession, since you 
have battered down my doors ! — or shall I hand over 
the keys of my closets and my drawers to you? 
Here," continued jMiriam, releasing a small bunch of 
keys from her girdle, "take them, gentlemen, and 
make free at the house of ]Miriam Coffin : — This is 
the key of the drawer containing my silver spoons; 
— this one unlocks the chest, wherein you will find 
the silver plate that my mother gave me on the day 
of my nmrriage; — and this one will put you in pos- 
session of a hundred silver crowns. What! — not 
take them? — Beshrew me. gentlemen, he that will 
assault and batter down the outer door of a private 
dwelling, should not hesitate to lay his hands upon 
the spoils within. I took you for some brave band 
of brotherly associates, of the Agrarian order, 
whose creed is the equal division of property. I cry 
you mercy ; — I have mistaken your object, gentle- 



men 



f" 



Here Mij-iam courtesied slowly t(» the floor, with 
deep ceremony, while a curl of contempt sat upon 
her lips. The men. unable, as they afterwards de- 



MIRIAM COFFiN-THE DOWNFALL OF MIRIAM. 133 

clared themselves, to stand before the searching lire 
of her eye. hurried from her presence without 
making a word of reply. There was not a man 
among them that would not sooner have grappled 
with a whale than encounter a woman's tongue; and 
especially if that woman was ^Miriam Coffin. 

In the meantime, the four men had descended to 
the beach, and launched the small boat. The sloop 
was an easy prey; for only two persons, and those 
but half-grown lads, were remaining on board. 
They were not sensible of any danger, until the 
strange faces came aft. and their unusual costume 
became visible by the light of the binnacle. The 
frightened youths rushed for the boat, but were 
seized at the gangway by the brawny hands of the 
Nantucketers. and forced to remain in custody. The 
boat was sent back again to the beach, and the 
townspeople were brought oft:', together with the 
packages remaining on the sands. Sail was in- 
stantly made, and the cold stomachs of the captors 
were warmed with some good Holland, which they 
found on board, and broached, no doubt, at the ex- 
pense of ]\Iiriam. An hour's sail brought the craft 
safely into port; and. as no one appeared to claim 
her, she was declared forfeit to her captors. 

Soon afterwards the envoys to the British authori- 
ties returned with favourable reports. The Ximrod, 
brig of war, anchored in the offing, and a twelve- 
oared barge, bearing her commander, and a Avhite 
flag, in token of amit\-. approached the shore. The 
starving inhabitants crowded to the landing place to' 
receive the messenger; and. as in duty biunul. they 



134 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

couducted hiiu, with every demonstration of respect, 
to the Town-House, Silence being obtained in that 
ancient hall of reception, the magistrates of the 
town arranged themselves in their places. A dupli- 
cate set of Selectmen, however, presented them- 
selves, and contended for precedence : — the whigs, on 
the one side, believing themselves to be the choice 
of a majority of the sovereign people, and the tories 
on the other, who had plucked up courage to make 
a show of loyalty to the crown, countenanced, as 
they supposed they would be, by an officer of his 
majesty. 

The commander of the Nimrod approached the 
table, Avhich divided the factions of the houses of 
York and Lancaster, and. iu a prefatory speech, de- 
clared himself the humble messenger of his majesty's 
government, to inform the inhabitants that their 
wish to remain neutral, in the pending contest, had 
been acquiesced in. He further went on to say, that 
the people Avould b(? allowed freedom of trade to all 
parts of the continent, so long as that privilege Avas 
not abused, by succouring their countrymen, the 
rebels; and that license was granted for their 
>A'hale-ships to come and go freely. He finished by 
laying his dispatches upon the table, and then re- 
tired a few steps to await their reply. 

The despatches Avere directed, in their superscrip- 
tion, to the ''Worshipful Magistrates of the Toivn of 
Sherburne and Islnud of Nantucket.' ' The unyield- 
ing manners of the old Nantucketers Avere never 
more conspicuous than upon this august occasion. A 
formal argument, but carried on Avith all the quaint- 



MIRIAM COFFIN— THE DOWNFALL OF MIRIAM. 135 

ness and propriety which distinguish Quaker de- 
bates, was here entered upon by the speakers of the 
several factions. The Selectmen declared it their 
high privilege to receive and open his majesty's 
despatches, and cited the Avords of the superscrip- 
tion as an argument that the packet belonged to 
them exclusively. The whig party, who had abjured 
all titles of this nature, contented themselves "svith 
the simple designation of ^^ Selectmen," and publicly 
denounced the sounding dignity of '^ Worshipful 
Magistrates." The literal construction of the super- 
scription was. therefore, likely to prove a bone of 
contention between the parties, to the great detri- 
ment of their constituents. But the whigs, though 
they would not break the seal of the papei* them- 
selves, from a too nice regard to etiquette, were de- 
termined not to yield the important document up to 
their opponents. 

^Meantime the packet remained untouched. The 
gallant commander of the Nimrod became uiieasy, 
at the unnecessary delay which the far-tidvanced 
and still waxing debate occasioned him. and tliouiJt'ht 
proper to put in his oar. 

"Since," said he. "the liberality of his majesty's 
government is so little appreciated, although granted 
at your earnest prayer; — and, as I perceive sucli a 
perversity of disposition here, which, it seems to my 
poor comprehension, you Avould sooner ijidulge in 
till doomsday, and suffer the people to starve, than 
concede supremacy one to the other. — I will retire, 
and report what I bave seen and heard. I must, 
however, since no one will receive it. reston' tbis 



136 SPUN-VXRN from old NANTUCKET. 

packet to those who have commissioned me to bring 
you relief: — but I must say, it strikes me as in the 
highest degree singular, and out of place, that amidst 
distress, such as prevails here, you should stand upon 
ceremony in breaking the seal of these important 
despatches, addressed respectfully to the magis- 
trates of the town." 

"Minnows and mack'rel!" exclaimed Peleg 
Folger, who belonged to the whigs ; — -"I am a con- 
vert to thy eloquence, and am inclined to think 
pretty much as thou dost in this matter. By thy 
leave. I will settle this dispute, in the twinkling of 
a bed-post. Tliere!" continued Peleg. "let those 
who plcHse. quarrel ;d)oiit the envelope and its 
worshipful designation ; — for my part. I Avill, for one, 
take a peep into the interior, and pick the kernel out 
of the shell, without longer giving heed to the 
palaver of the S'lackmen.'" 

^'SlacJi enough, in all conscience!" said the officer 
to a bystander. 

Peleg tore off the cover. Avhich he mischievously 
handed over to the leader of the tories. lie there- 
upon read aloud to the re.joicing people, the warrant 
of their release from ]irivation and want. lie then 
held up the papers in trinmph. and the people 
shouted aloud as he descended from the rostrum. 

"Let us home to our families, and spread the 
good news ; — and do thou, neighbour Peleg. hold fast 
of the document." said a townsman of Peleg. 

"Ay — minnoAvs and mack'rel! — that T will — and 
the worsliipful blockheads may remain behind, and 
talk about the inviolability of the anointed magistry. 



MIRIAM COFFIN— THE DOWNFALL OF MIRIAM. 137 

as tht'V (.-all it. until they grow liiack in the face for 
lack of something to eat!" 

The crowd followed Peleg, and the hall of audi- 
ence was cleared of all but the wordy belligerents. 
— who. seeing themselves abandoned by the people, 
soon grew ashamed of their puerile debate, and 
Avent upon their several ways ; while the captain of 
the flighty Hunter, finding that his mission was at 
an end. took to his barge again, and departed the 
coast. 

The mono])oly that Miriam liad so long enjoyed 
was now at an end. Suj^plies came pouring into the 
neutral port of Sherburne from every quarter, and 
in less than a fortnight's time the inhabitants were 
effectually and abundantly relieved. But this was 
not ail. The reaction against ^Miriam commenced. 
The wheel of fortune. Avhich is always turning, had 
carried her to the top. while it had. at the same 
time, crushed a whole people. She was now on her 
downward career, and the l)ruise(1 and contemned 
were taking their turn upwards. The i-cniendirance 
of her conduct had been treasured up against her; 
and, sooth to say. the means of bringing about her 
downfall were plotted industriously and without re- 
morse. The springs of mercy and the miik of liu- 
man kindness Avere dried up. for a time, in the 
breasts of her op]>onents. The owners of the ships 
and of the houses that had been mortgaged to her. 
bethought themselves of an expedient to redeem 
their pledges at small cost, and they hesitated at 
nothing to compass a wide revenge. They clul)bed 
together tlieir funds, and pledged theii- credit witli 



138 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

their iiuuierous friends upon the continent for addi- 
tional means, for the purpose of buying up the 
judgment bonds of Miriam, which were floating 
about among the merchants of the city of NcAv-York 
in large amounts. They were but too successful in 
their designs. They came back upon her with their 
demands, like an overwhelming flood. She found, 
too late, that she had not only overreached herself, 
but had been overreached ; and that in accumulating 
riches, by unfair and exorbitant means, she had 
created a host of enemies, who were now as im- 
placable in their prosperity as she had been inex- 
orable in her demands and extortions. Avhile they 
were needy. 

Miriam, however, was game to the last. She 
looked the danger that threatened her steadily in 
the face, and took her measures promptly, but not 
warily. 

"Since my enemies will have it so, — let them have 
war to the knife — let it be a war of extermination !" 
exclaimed she. with energy, as she called for Grim- 
shaw. her confidential adviser, and gave directions 
to foreclose every mortgage which she held, and to 
put ever}' demand in suit in the Colonial coui'ts. 

"But, my dear madam," replied Grimshaw, "this 
will be the means of creating a more determined 
opposition in your enemies. Trust me, discretion is 
the better part of valour now ; for you cainiot fail 
to see the advantage of holding tliese liens in terrorem 
over their lieads. whib^ they are proceeding against 

you." 

"Talk not to me of temporizing: — T Avill be 



MIRIAM COFFIN-THE DOWNFALL OF MIRIAM. 139 

obeyed; — put them all iu suit forthwith, and crush 
the hornets in one nest together! They elamour- 
ously demand payment of my bonds, and Avill take 
nothing but silver and gold. I have neither, and 
they know it: but they shall be paid in their own 
coin; — bond for bond — ruin for ruin! I am not a 
woman to ask favours of the Avorld : and least of all 
will I bend to this white-oak race of unmannered 
cubs. — No! ]\Iiriam Coffin is as unbending as the 
best of them ! ' ' 

It was done as ]\Iiriam directed, and an internal 
war. more ruinous than has ever visited the island 
before or since, was carried on between the powerful 
and all-grasping ]\Iiriam Coffin, on the one part, and 
a whole community on the other. The fortunes of 
Miriam were prostrated in the struggle; but she 
would have been victorious in any other place upon 
the main, of equal size and resources. An isolated 
spot, like Nantucket, is favourable for mercantile 
combinations ; but. on the continent, free com])etition 
renders most attempts of this nature nugatory. As 
it was, however. Miriam saw herself standing alone, 
in opposition to all the people of her little world. 

Whenever she attempted to sell their property, by 
virtue of the mortgages which she held, as she was 
compelled to do to raise funds to meet her engage- 
ments, her debtors, by agreement with one another, 
stood by and saw ship after ship, and house after 
house, knocked down to a single bidder in their in- 
terest for a nominal sum. The rightful owner, it may 
be supposed, never suffered by these forced sales, but 
enjoyed his own again at Miriam's cost. And again: 



140 SPUN- YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

Whenever portions of her own or her husband's 
property were seized, by virtue of the bonds enforced 
against her, her goods and chattels, houses and lands, 
by reason of the same combination, which she had 
provoked in the pride of her prosperity, were sacri- 
ficed for the tithe of their value. Even her splendid 
town-house was sold, over her head, for a sum less 
than half the cost of the stone foundation. 

The strict morality of this proceeding, on the part 
of a people generally fair and upright, was, perhaps, 
never canvassed. The war, so far as carried on by 
Miriam, was looked upon as one of aggression; and 
the defence and retaliation regarded in the light of 
self-preservation. 

In the midst of this state of things, Jetliro Coffin 
returned to his home. He found himself a ruined 
man. Like a true philosopher, he set himself about 
repairing his shattered fortunes; but in the end was 
enabled to scrape together only a few fragments of a 
magnificent wreck. He placed great reliance, how- 
ever, on the return of his ships from their whaling 
operations to resuscitate his mercantile name and 
credit ; ])ut the reader has already been made ac- 
quainted with their ill success and their misfortunes, 
and may therefore .judge of the keen disappointment 
of Jethro, when he found his hopes entirely blasted. 

Jetliro could never be ))rought to look upon ^liriam's 
splendid designs, which had ended so disastrously, 
with anything like patience or complacancy. 

"Had it not been for this," said ]\Iiriam, after she 
had finished giving her husband a faithful relation of 
her transactions, — "Had it not been for this mis- 



MIRIAM COFFIN— THE DOWNFALL OF MIRIAM. 141 

fortune, — and tJiat ae:eident ; — if things had gone so — 
and so — as I had good reason to expect, — we should, 
as thou seest, have been the wealthiest family in the 
colonies." 

"Nay," answered Jetliro, "I do not see as thou 
seest ; — thy uncliasteiied ambition, not content with 
reasonable gains, hath ruined thy husband, stock and 
tlook! — Get thee gone to tliy kitchen, woman, and do 
thou never meddle with men's afiPairs more!" 

^Miriam's proud lieart was humbled: it Avas almost 
broken, at this rei>roof from her husband. But she 
obeyed; and in time, put on the show of content, 
and seemed to the eyes of the world at least, to accom- 
modate herself, without murmuring, to the humble 
pursuits which suited her decayed fortunes. But that 
world never knew of the volcanic fires, burning with a 
smouldering flame in her bosom; — nor of the yearn- 
ings for power; — nor the throbbings, struggling to be 
revenged upon those who had brought her house to 
its ruin. She was — 

" Like Etna;— 



And in her breast was pent as fierce a fire." 



142 SPUN- YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 



CHAPTER X. 

Extracts from Quaint Nantucket. 
The Missionary. 

While Thomas Stor.y, the Quaker preacher, was 
visiting- Nantucket in the year 1704. he found at 
one of his meetings a smaller number of people 
than usual; and he says in his journal that '"two 
priests, an elderly man and a young one, the first 
from the isle of Shoals and the other from IMarthas 
Vineyard, had a meeting near us and several were 
curious to hear the new preacher in the Presby- 
terian way." Other efforts like that mentioned in 
the Quaker's journal Avere made to establish Pres- 
byterianism on the island ; but owing to the growth 
and cheapness of Quakerism, which paid no wages 
to its preachers, they were not successful until the 
year 1711, when a little Presbyterian meeting-house 
was built near Nobottom Pond, and a little congre- 
gation began to worship in it. 

In May, 1725, a young minister who had been 
educated at Harvard Colleg:e was sent to Nantucket 
to revive the drooping faith of the Puritans repre- 
sented by this feeble society. His name was Timo- 
thy White. He came from Boston, a missionary 
zealous for good works, and soon after his arrival 
he fell in love with an island girl named Susanna 
Gardner, who was a granddaughter of Captain John 
Gardner, alreadv mentioned in mv narrative. In 



QUAINT NANTUCKET-THE MISSIONARY. 143 

this new coiiditictii of existence he iieiilet'tcd to 
write to his friends at lionie; and one dny he was 
aroused by a letter from his sister. Mistress Al)i»i'ail 
White, who had heard that he was ''far gone" in 
an oeenpation unknown to her own experience. To 
this letter he replied: — • 

Nantucket, Sept. 35. 1725. 

Sister Abi : — I must confess you did eno' to shame 
me, by catching at an opportunity to write, while 
I was careless to improve the many which presented. 
But you have heard I conclude, altho' y(»u don't 
know by experience, that when Persons are stiffly 
engaged in Courting, they are very forgetful of th(,)se 
lesser things. 

I know not to whom you were beholden for your 
information, but I can inform you that I was not so 
far gone in it but that I had determined to quit the 
place & all tlie things in it. till I heard from Boston, 
when your Letter came; and I have not laid my self 
under snch strong obligations yet, but that I can 
easily let the action fall if you have anything ma- 
terial to object. 

Whether the reason is because my Company is so 
very delightsome & charming, or what it is I can't 
tell, but it has been my Portion to be honour 'd with 
such suspicions, wherever I have yet lived for any 
time. 

But if this l)e not true, I could wish it were, for 
I am no enemy to proceedings of this nature. 

He advises his sister "to improve every opportu- 
nity for the advancement of your temporal good." 
which may have been interpreted as a suggestion 



144 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

that she also should be ''stiffly engaged in court- 
ing;" but above all, he says, "you are to be so- 
licitous for the prosperity of your soul." This was 
(Ui fidvicc coiiiiiioiily offered hy religious letter- 
writers of those days. 

If Timothy White had '"quit tlie place" .it that 
time, he might have been better off in the end. The 
longer he stayed, the gloomier became his prospects ; 
and at the close of two years' living on Nantucket 
he was intending to return to Boston, an unmarried 
man, when a letter came to him from Benjamin 
Coleman, minister of the Brattle Street Church, in 
that town, written on behalf of a committee of 
"Honorable and Reverend Gentlemen," and inclos- 
ing a gift of £100. with promise of £50 more in two 
years, to be accepted on these conditions — ■ 

First. That ye said AD" White do willingly devote 
himself to ye service of Christ & Souls on the 
Island of Nantucket, seriously endeavouring by ye 
help of God for ye space of tive years to come, to 
introduce & estal)lish the Settlement of a Church 
state there. 

And secondly. That ye People of Nantuckett to 
whom he is & has been ministering due signify to 
us theii- desire of j\P' White's continuing & labour- 
ing among them to this end. 

This encouragement satisfied him ; and in Sep- 
tember, 1728, he married Susanna Gardner, who was 
seventeen years of age; he was twenty-eight. The 
next month he wrote in his note book: "The Com- 
missioners for Indian affairs at Boston made known 
to me their desire of my taking upon me the charge 



QUAINT NANTUCKET— THE MISSIONARY. 145 

of a Lecture to the Indians upon Nantucket ; on my 
understanding of which I sent an answer in the 
affirmative, and aecordinglj- I begin todny.'' He 
preached to the Indians once or twice a month for 
ten years, and received for this labor from the Com- 
missioners £25 yearly in poor money. During this 
period he wrote in his book the date of each preach- 
ing, and the number of Indians in his audience; for 
example, "1733, began a 6th year at ^liacomet; 
November 1st there were 23 Indians present ; 27th 
of December, 23 Indians; 20th of January. 60 In- 
dians ; 10th of February, 70 Indians ; 24th of Febru- 
ary, 80 Indians; 10th of March, 60 Indians; 14th of 
April, 70 Indians; 20th of April, 60 Indians." 

His popularity with the Indian congregations 
provoked the ignorant native teachers, who inter- 
fered with his work in such a manner that it be- 
came necessary for the Commissioners at Boston to 
write to them, saying: — 

This is to signify that the Honorable Commis- 
sioners, of whom His Excellency the Governor is 
one, from whom you receive your yearly Salaries, 
have appointed the Rev<*, M"". Timothy White to 
preach Lectures to you, to oversee counsel I & 
advise you from time to time as occasion shall 
require, and to inspect the Schools & Churches & 
to catechise the children & such as are proper for 
it, & you & all concerned are to pay a proper re- 
gard to him accordingly. 

Adam Winthrop 
Pursuant to a vote of the 
CoTiimissr.sr.s this is ordered 
to be sent to you. 



146 SPUN- YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

In the set'oiid summer after his marriage he Avas 
building a house on land given to him by his wife's 
father; it was on the highway near Josiah Coffin's 
house, and the garden M-as "four rods square in the 
swamp near by. "^ Two years later, he assumed the 
office of minister to the little Presbyterian society. 
For his help in tliis position there came to him from 
Boston a bundle of books, with a letter saying: — 

^ On the south side of Cliff Road, a little east of the Josiah Coffin 
house, is the site of the house built by Timothy White, •Imost due north 
from the house with the horseshoe chimney. Between the White house 
and the house with the horseshoe chimne.v is the swamp, where was 
located his garden. 

These four volumes of ye Practical works of ye 
Revcl ]Mr Richard Baxter are given by Samuel 
Holden Esqi'. Governor of the Bank of England, 
by ye Special Disposition of Benjamin Colman 
Pasfi" of a Cliurch in Boston to the Presbyterian 
Congregation at Nantucket, now under the ministry 
of the Rev*l ]\Ir Timo.^' White, on the following 
conditions — tliat ye s<i i\lr. White & some of ye prin- 
cipal members of ye Congregation do receive them 
& keep them safe for ye benefit of ye Teacher & 
Society of ye Presbyterians on sd Island, & will be 
responsible for them so as to return them in Case 
tile public Worship according to tlie Presbyterian 
method fails. If there be a number of People that 
tarry at the Place of Worship after Sermon, one 
volume shall be kept there for tiieir use if it may be 
with safety. 

The congregation was small and poor, paying the 
ministry by voluntary gifts of wood, corn, wool, fish, 
labor, and sometimes money; so he had to look beyond 
it for the means of living. He ojicnod a school, which 



QUAINT NANTUCKET— THE MISSIONARY. 147 

had no vacations. Quaker children did not attend it, 
as they were confined to the schools of the Quaker 
society. The largest number of scholars at any time 
was thirty-four; from each scholar he received about 
ten shillings for a term of three months, paid in 
money or its value in hay, corn, firewood, cheese, tal- 
low, or molasses. I copy from his account book some 
of the payments: — 

Reed of James Gardner for Schooling 1 Gall 

molasses 5s. 

Reed of John Bunker for Schooling 60 lbs 

Cheese 60s. 

Reed of Josiah Coffin for Schooling Tallow 4s. 

Reed of Sam Ray for Schooling 2 tubs 19s. 

Reed of George Brown for schooling in Oyl £4.15.8 

Continuous preaching and teaching produced for 
the poor missionary and his family only a small main- 
tenance, which he increased by trading in merchan- 
dise. Friends on the mainland sent to him invoices 
of cloth, bed-ticking, cotton, flour, religious books, 
almanacs. Watts 's Hymns, and cider. His account 
book says : — 

April 1733. Reed from Mr. Brown 5 bis Cider 
which is thus sold: — 

John Gardner 1 bl — at 22 shillings 

John Coffin 1 bl — at 22 

Josiah Coffin 1 bl — at 22 

Robert Coffin 2 bl — at 42 

£5.8.0 



148 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

Freit on cvder 17.6 



Neat proceeds £4.10.6 



Reed oi' above debts in wool 50 shillings 

and six pence; 
in fish 40 shillings = £4.10.6 

June 1733. Reed from Mother White one eoverlett 
sold the same to Josiah Coffin to be paid for in 
wool, £3 

Reed the wool and sent it. 
July 1733. Shipped aboard Capt. Woodman for 
John White of Haverhill to be paid for in apples 
or cyder or both — 
on John Coffins acct — 

4 lb of wool— £1. 2.0 

on Jolm Gardners acct — 

10 lb wool— 1.10.0 

on Timothy Whites acct — 

37 lb wool— 3.14.0 

At same time shipped for mother for her cloth 
166 lb wool. 
He appears to have had the genius of a trader. In 
the year ] 735, he sold twenty-five almanacs at sixpence 
each, and fifteen "Evidences of Christianity" at two 
shillings and sixpence each, and "laid in for a whaling 
voyage" eight barrels of beef. His share of the whal- 
ing sloop's oil on her first cruise was ten barrels, and 
on her second cruise fifteen barrels. From that date 
he was annually shipping wliale oil and whalebone to 
the Boston market. Some of his slabs of whalebone 
w^eighed eight hundred pounds. 



QUAINT NANTUCKET- THE MISSIONARY. 149 

A few extracts taken here and there from his book 
reveal some of the peculiar circumstanqes of his 
life :— 

Let Eben Cain (an Indian) have 5 shillings 
which lie promised to pay in Feathei*s within 8 or 
10 days. He paid the Feathers. 

Let Zach Hoit have a pair of Breeches Shirt and 
Hat. Paid by carting- Wood. Let Zach Hoit have 
a Jacket for which he is to pay ye next Fall G^^^ 
Bushels of Corn. 

Cleared with James Eibbin for the Boys breaking 
his window — paying 4 shillings and in ye Spring 
1 Shilling. In all 5 Shillings. 

Paid to Jos Daws for Labour 1 pair of knee 
Buckles 4 shillings. Paid to his wife for Weaving 
20 shillings. 

Bourt of John Bunker 100 lbs of Chees @ 1 
shilling and pd in cash 40 shillings & Schooling 60 
shillings. 

Sold to Sylvanus Hussey 722 lbs Wlialebone be- 
sides the 200 weighed out by himself. 

Put on board Sylvanus 's schooner for Boston 34 
bbls of Oyl. 

Put on board Andrew Gardner's sloop for Boston 
18 bbls Oyl. 

Pd to John Coffin Freit of wood to Xewburg and 
apples & cyder from thence for sale 80 shillings. 

Sent by Bro Cragie to Pay Couz. Wm White for 
a Piece of Callico and to get Sundries for sale £8. 

Reed from Bro Cragie Sundries to the value of 
£17 for sale. 



150 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

Sent to Rhode Island 20 shillings to get vin 
treacle & eocheneal & a piece of striped Cotton. 

This day Thomas Dagget of Edgartown informed 
me that the money (£18) which I sent to him the 
last year for a Cow was delivered to him. 

Pd to ]\Iary Barnard, Doct^", £5.1.8, and for 
Physick then had 2 shillings (June 21, 1749). 
Thomas Hubbard, a merchant of Boston, had col- 
lected £24 from a convention of ministers, and sent 
the money to Timothy White, with a letter dated in 
June, 1748, saying : — 

Sometime ago D^" Sewall put into my hands a 
letter from yourself representing the low circum- 
stances of life your situation in the world had ex- 
posed you to, upon which I connnunicated the same 
to several of the members of the General Court, but 
found it was lieyond their power to help you in a 
public station, w"h I am persuaded they would glad- 
ly have done if they could; whereupon I returned 
your letter to tlie doctor with four pounds cash from 
myself to be sent you at the fii'st opportunitj\ . . . 
Doct Sewall after this communicated your letter to 
the convention of ministers who readily voted you 
twenty pounds (old Tenor) out of the collection. 
... At last he put it in my care, & now by Mr. 
Abijah Folger I have sent you twenty four pounds. 
... I heartily wish you health & prosperity in your 
Lord 's work & hope that some door or other may be 
opened for your comfort and relief. 
But the poor missionary had already discovered 
that it was useless to contend against the power of 
Quakerism which was ruling Nantucket ; and writing 



QUAINT N ANTUCKET-THE MISSIONARY. 1 5 1 

to the Rev. John Webb, of Boston, his "dear brother 
in the Lord," he said his discouragements were so 
great and many that they will compel him in a little 
time "to take leave of the poor people" in whose 
service he had spent a great part of his life. A reply 
from his friend promised that the ministers in Boston 
Avould "use their interest that you may have a more 
comfortable support." It was only a promise. In 
June, 1750, he departed from Nantucket, carrying 
with him as a memorial of his missionary life the four 
volumes of Richard Baxter's works. "These books," 
said he, "are in my hands, there being no preacher on 
the island when I left ; and as I supplied that pulpit 
for more than eighteen years after they were put into 
my hands, and during this term of years lived chiefly 
upon my own means, I am justified in accounting 
them mv own." 



152 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 



CHAPTER XI. 

Sea-Joiirnals and Sea-Rovers. 
"With sails let fall, and sheeted home, and clear of the 

ground were we; 
We crossed the bar, stood round the point, and sailed away 
to sea." 

"A JOURNAL of an intended voyage from Nantucket 
by God's pel-mission," — so run the opening words of 
these old books. Following this recognition of Him 
"who hath measured the M^aters in the hollow of His 
hand" are the records of daily events at sea; the 
direction of the wind, the character of the weather, 
run of the log ship, courses steered, the latitude and 
longitude, the occupations of the ship's company. 
Then come the last words of the day: ''So ends this 
24 hours all on board in health through the blessing of 
God." 

The pages of these journals have been polished by 
the friction of oily hands; the language is picturesque; 
and here and there quaint words, which passed out of 
use long ago, come upon the reader like a flash-light 
fi'om the last century. The sea-rovers who wrote them 
were revolters against uniform spellings, as if uni- 
formity were "a strife against nature." In this 
they were not wrong, for the meaning of words is 
determined not so much by their orthography as by 
their combination and place in the text. Voltaire, who 
derided both English and French orthography, said : 
"Writing is the painting of the voice; the closer the 
resemblance the better the picture." 



SEA-JOURNALS AND SEA-ROVERS. 1 53 

The threads that made up the strand of Nantueket 
life were not diverse; in one way or another they all 
wove themselves into the sea. For a Nantucket boy, 
there was no outlook except across the weltering 
ocean ; and on tliese journal pages he worked out his 
life problems in the mathematics of navigation. There 
he wrote wliatever he ought to know about building, 
rigging, and handling a sliip : the regulations of 
foreign ports; tlie latitude and longitude of noted 
headlands and harbors; the value of foreign moneys 
computed in pounds sterling: the methods of drawing 
bills of exchange on London. Ambitious boys, who 
began in these journals their education for the sea, 
were thinking of the day when they were to take com- 
mands and become managers as well as navigators of 
ships. 

Such, for example, was George Gardner, who was 
born on the island in the year 1731, and, having fitted 
himself for sea, he sailed as a sharer in whaling 
cruises. His book begins with his preparatory studies 
ashore; then follows his sea-journal; and then the 
record of his services as a justice of the peace and 
collector of the port of Nantucket. 1 will copy a day 
from his journal : — 

Saturday January 21st, 1757. The first part of 
This 24 hours fresh Breases of wind S W Inter- 
mixed with Rain & Snow, wee Spake with Capt 
John Brown from Newfoundland Bound for New 
Lonnon. The wind ble\\' that wee Had not much 
Talk with him but he Told us he had been Chased 
by a French Privateer but by Good Luck Lost her 
in the Night. Latt 36-10. Saw 2 large Ise Islands 



154 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

hove out our boat and got 8 Bl)ls of Ise. Caught 
several Cod lish & had Fry'd Cod heads for supper 
and a glass of wine. So no more at Present all 
being in Health by the Blessing of God but no 
Whale yet. 

Peleg Folger's sea-journals show a Nantucket sailor 
of another sort. His name was pronounced Pillick, 
and it exists in an old crooning song of Nantucket 
fishermen, of which this fragment remains: — 

' ' Old Uncle Pillirk he built biiii a boat 

On the ba-a-ck side of Nantucket P'int; 
He rolled up his trowsers and set her afloat 
From the ba-a-ck side of Nantucket P'int." 

He began to go to sea when he was tAventy-one j'^ears 
old, cruising yearly below the Bahamas and beyond 
the Grand Banks of Newfoundland in pursuit of 
sperm whales. In those days whaling voyages were 
made in sloops, each manned l)y thirteen men, with 
two boats. In the spring they departed from Nan- 
tucket, returned to discharge their oil, and sailed and 
returned again three or four times before winter came. 
The largeness of the Heet in Peleg Folger's time is 
indicated by a remark in his journal of the year 
1754 :— 

We sailed from Nantucket ^lay 6th in company 

with about 'SO sail of whalemen and when we 

anchored under the East End of Nantucket we 

appear 'd like a forest. 

This young sailor was an innovator in the current 
style of sea-journals. He 0{)ened his first i)ages with 
the words -. — 

Peleg Folger his hand and Book written at sea 



SEA-JOURNALS AND SEA-ROVERS. 155 

on Board the Sloop Grampus ]\Iay 1751. Many- 
people who keep Journals at sea fill them up with 
trifles. I purpose in the following- sheets not to 
keep an overstrict history of every trifling occur- 
rence that happens ; only now and then some partic- 
ular affair, and to fill up the rest with subjects 
Mathematical Historical Philosophical or Poetical 
as best suits my inclination — 

' ' Qui doeet indoctos licet indoctissinius esset, 
lUe quoqiie breve ceteris doctior esse queat."i 

This preface denotes an individuality, which shone 
out bej'ond the range of other sea-rovers, and leads 
me to quote liberally from Jiis journals. His habit of 
using Latin phrases in them caused many jests by his 
shipmates, one of whom wrote in his book : ■ — 

Old Peleg Folger is a Num Scull for writing 
Latin. I fear he will be Offended with me for writ- 
ing in his Rook but I will Intercede with Anna Pitts 
in his Behalf to make up for ye same — Nathaniel 
Worth. 

^ "He who teaches the unlearned may be most unlearned, although he 
is only a little more learned than the others." This maxim was rendered 
by Pope as follows: — 

"Content if here th' unlearn'd their wants may view, 
The learn'd reflect on what before they knew." 

The Grampus sailed from Nantucket the lOtli of 
April, 1751. The young sea philosopher kept silence 
until ]\Iay 'id, when he wrote : — 

This day we have killed a Spermaceti whale 
which is the first since our Departure from our good 
Isle of Nantucket. 

i\Iay 10th annoque Domini 1751 we are bound 
home, having three small Spermaceties in our hold. 
Latt. 38 North. AVe spy'd a sail and Draw'd up 



156 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

to her ])iit the Clown would not speak with us bear- 
ing off S E. 
' ' When Drake and Cavendish sailed the world about, 
And valiant heroes found new Countries out, 
To Britain's Glory and their Lasting Fame, 
Were we like minded we might do the same. ' ' 

May IStli. This day we fell in with the South 
Shoal & made our Dear Island of Nantucket and 
thro Gods mercy got round the point in the after- 
noon. So we turn'd it up to the Bar by the Sun 
2 hours high. In the night we got over the Bar — 
Laus Deo. 

May 18th we have got all ready for a Second 
Cruise and Sail'd from our wharfe round the point 
and anchor 'd under Sankety Head and the next day 
at 4 o'clock in the morning we weigh 'd anchor & 
Stood off to sea. 

June 7th. We have got one large Spermaceti and 
have met with nothing remarkable. But Content is 
a continual feast. We are headed North and hope 
to be home soon. Deo volente atque adjuvente.^ 

June 23<i. We sailed from Nantucket Bar 
through Miskekit channel on our third cruise, bound 
South. 

July l^t. Nantucket bears N E 324 miles. We 
had a Good Breakfast upon meat and doboys & we 
are all merry together. A Shuffling kind of Breeze 
— only wish we Could get Some Spermaceties. 

July 6th. This day we spy'd Spermaceties & we 
kill 'd one. If we get Whale enough we may be able 
to go home in a fortnight. Death summons all men 
to the silent grave. 

' God willing: and assistins. 



SEA-JOURNALS AND SEA-ROVERS. 1 57 

July 9tli. Lat. 36-18 Longt. 73-2. Nothing re- 
markable this 24 Hours only dull times & Hot 
weather & no Whales to be seen. ^Mucli toil and 
labour mortcil man is forced to Endure & little 
protit to be got by it. 

July 10th a gale of Aviud and a large sea. We 
lay by under a trisail. It is tiresome to lay by so 
much, rowling and tumbling like the conscience of 
a wicked man. 

July 11th. The wind died out and the sloop 
began to rowl and rowl'd her lee gunwail under 
and several times fairly floated our boats and 
stove one. Nothing to be seen but the circling 
skies above and the rowling seas below. No 
Wliales or Whales tails to be seen nor any Whale- 
men. 

July 14th We have killed two Spermaceties. 
Now for home Boys ! We have 70 barrels full in 
our Hold — ex beneficia divina.^ 

^ Prom the divine clemency. 

In April, 1752, Peleg Folger sailed from Nan- 
tucket ''with a smart wind at northwest." beginning 
the cruise with a perilous experience. 

April 4th we Spy'd Spermaceties and we toss'd 
out our Boat and we row'd about a mile and a 
half and then a Whale came up under us & stov^ 
our Boat and threw every man overboard. And 
we all came up and Got hold of the boat & held to 
her till the other boat which was two miles away 
came up and took us in. 

April 27th Ave spoke Beriah Pitch and Ave mated 
Avith Beriah and Ave Struck a large Spermaceti 



158 SPUN- YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

and kill'd her. We Got her beneath both Vessels 
and Got a Parbuckle under her and tackles and 
runners to her and we hoisted her head about 2 
foot above water and then we cut a Scuttle in 
her head and a man Got in up to his Armpits and 
dipt almost 6 Hogsheads of clear oyle out of her 
case besides 6 more out of the Noodle. He cer- 
tainly doth hit the right that mingles profit with 
delight. 

May 10th we spy'd a scool of Spermaceties in 
the morning and hove out our boats and struck 
two and kill'd one but the other ran away with 
one iron in her tail. That which we kill'd fill'd 
11 Hogsheads. 

May 13th. We heard a Spermaceti blow at 1-2 
past 3 in ye morning and it still being Dark we 
hove out our Boats and row-'d tow'ards ye Sound 
and about 20 minutes before the Sun rising we 
struck her. But w^e could not get in a Second 
iron and so she ran away to the Southward & got 
clear of us. And so one Day passeth after another 
& every Day brings us nearer to our Grave and 
all human employments will be at an end. 

IMay 16th, in latitude 36:30 North We spoke 
w'ith a cape man w^ho told us oyl bore a very 
Good price in Boston — £140 old tenor per tun to 
be paid in Dollars on the spot and the small pox 
which hath been in Boston still continues. We 
spy'd Spermaceties & toss'd out our boats & kill'd 
one which filled 12 Hogsheads. We stood to the 
northward having Got a Good voyage ex divina 
benefieia. 



SEA. JOURNALS AND SEA-ROVERS. 1 59 

]May 21st. a very hard Gale at Northeast. We 
carried a trysail foresail »t Gib and the wiud 
coming- on we liall'd down our Gib & reef'd liim 
then sat him again. Bnt the wind tore him sadly 
& we haird liim down again and nnbent him & 
Got him into tlie Cabin & mended him and stood 
oflt' under a trysail and foresail till uight. 

]\[ay 22nd. A very hard gale & a top-gallant sea 
going. AYe lay to under a trysail all day. It is 
five weeks since Ave left Xantncket. l)ut I am re- 
membering all the Girls at home and I hope to 
see them soon. 

''Oh tliat mine eyes might closed be 
To what becomes me not to see; 
That deafness might possess mine ear 
To what becomes me not to hear ; 
That truth my tongue might always tye 
From ever speaking foolishly, "i 
' From EUwood's TFi'v/ic.v. 

In June. 1752. he sailed in the Sloop Seaflower, 
bonnd to Newfonndland seas: and on the 14th of the 
month he made the land and entered "Misketo 
Cove." There, says his sea-jonrnal, — 

The Irishmen cnrs'd ns at high rate for they hate 
whalemen in the Harbour. We lay at anchor two 
weeks and in that space of time bore many an 
oath of the Paddies & bog trotters— they swearing 
we shonld not cnt np onr Whale in the Harbour. 
But we cut up two and then they rais'd a mob 
under Pike an Irishman who call'd himself Cap- 
tain of the Harbour, and fired upon us & tho the 
shot struck all around us, but through mercy hurt 
no man. While the sloop was anchored we cruised 



160 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

in our boats after AVhales. We struck a yearling 
and the mother Whale kept by its side and 
presently she Avas struck. We kill'd her by much 
litiicing. In lier tiurry she came at our boat and 
furiously ran over us and oversot us & made a 
miserable rack of our l)oat in a moment. A won- 
der it was that we all had our lives spar'd for 
divers of us were sadly puzzled under water. 

August 15th. Yesterday we set sail from Cape 
Race for Nantucket. There was a fresh gale of 
wind right aft and we took two reefs in the main- 
sail and she went like a Blaze all night. 
In May, 1753, Peleg Folger sailed from Nantucket 

in the sloop Greyhound, bound for Davis Straits. 

Soon after leaving port he fell in with a schooner 

from the West Indies bound to Boston, and he wrote 

in his journal : — 

We went aboard the schooner and got two 
bottles of Rum and some limes and sugar and 
oranges. Then we spy'd a scool of Spermaceties 
and Kill'd one. There hath been a jumbling sea 
today. 

May 26th we struck soundings on ye Grand 
Banks of Newfoundland. We saw several ice 
islands and we saw several ships. The weather is 
freezing cold, days long, nights short, our Cabins 
our delight, the fire pleasant, our allowance to 
every man his belly full & more if he wants. Alas ! 
if it were not for hopes the heart would fail. Lat 
58:57 Long 51:46. 

•Tune 20th We saw eight Avhales and our skipper 
struck one which stove his boat so that she over- 



SEA-JOURNALS AND SEA-ROVERS. 161 

sot and the Whale ran away. We struck another 
which also ran away. So there is two sliot of craft 
and a stoven boat in one day. 

June 21st We saw some whales and stnu-k one 
and we soon made her spout Blood and she was a 
long time dying. Bnt at last she dy'd and we cut 
her head off. The wind blew so that we i-onld not 
cut her up — a large swell going, the cable parted 
and the Whale is gone with about one third of 
the blubber. 

June 24th. W^e cleaned our Whalebone and 
stowed it away. It measured 8 foot 3 inches. We 
chased right Whales and Spermaceties today but 
could not strike. 

A Right Whale is very large, hollowing on the 
back, all slick & smooth, having no hump at all 
as other Wliales. The bone (of which is made 
stays and hoop'd petticoats) doth grow in their 
mouth. The tongue is monstrous large & will 
commonly make a tun of oyl. He has two spout 
holes and makes a forked spout whereby he is 
distinguished from other Whales at a distance. 

A Spermaceti will make from 10 to 100 barrels 
of oyl. He has no bone in his head & his brains is 
all oyl. He has a hooking hump on the after part 
of his back, one spouthole, and his under jaw is 
full of ivory teeth and his tongue is very small. 

June 26th. Ye wind at N E with some snow, we 
handed our mainsail and set our trisail. and let 
her jog to the eastward under trisail & Gib in 
hopes to find our Dead Whale. At 6 a. m. Avhile 
we were pouring some Chocolate down our bellies. 



162 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

our partner Elisha Coffiu. who was lying by. hove 
out a Boat & rowed to windward & when we came 
to discover what they was after it proved to be 
our Dead Whale which we lost the other day. So 
we soon got her alongside. Lat. by obs. 60-24. 

We are all in health & so oyly yt we are in a 
Doleful Pickle (ut aiunt)^ We had a haglet stew- 
pye for supper; about 8 at night we finish'd tr^dng 
•out our Blubber & put out tlie fire of our caboose. 
We sandrove our oyl and stow'd it away in the 
hold, & quoined it: our Whale made 68 barrels. 

^ As they say. 

June 30th. This day we had corn'd fish for 
dinner. Pancakes for supper & Chocolate for 
Breakfast, the sea a little ehopling and we lay 
under a trysail. 

July 2<i. We lay to all this 24 hours under a 
trisail & drove to the Northward. The sea broke 
like a surfe & appear 'd like a snowdrift. And we 
ship'd many tuns of water; our lee boat had been 
stove liad we not manhandled lier when she kanted 
on her gunnel & lash'd her. Our quarter deck was 
sometimes ancle deep & our tub of gravel got 
stove to pieces so we shall be forced to kill our 
fowl for fear they'd die. We had pancakes for 
supper. Lat. 60-30. 

July 14th. We spoke with a ship from G-lascow. 
Elisha came on board of us & we had a fowl 
stewpye and a great Plum pudding for dinner. 
Then we spy'd whales & we kill'd one large 
spermaceti & we got her alongside & began to 
cut upon her. 

July 17th. We spoke a Dutch ship & our skipper 



SEA- JOURNALS AND SEA-ROVERS. 163 

& mate went on board her. They had an Indian 
& his Canoe on board & intend to Carry him to 
Holland & bring him back next year. 

August 20th. Whales plenty. Hove out our 
boats and killed one. We struck two that ran 
away. We struck another oflf the bow and put 
two irons in her. She going to windward broke 
a war]) and so away she went. We sot the tryworks 
agoing and we soon had a flaming torch under the 
caboose, but seeing Whales we put out our fires 
and went off & kill'd a large Spermaceti. 

September 10th. It is 124 days since we have 
seen any land until today. Cape Race bear.s West 
by North 4 leagues. We are bound home & the 
wind is right ahead, but we must be contented let 
the wind be as it will. 

September 19th. Rain and thunder and lightning. 
We hall'd down our mainsel and balanc'd & 
reef d him and let the sloop jog along. At night it 
was as blacke as ink. So ■we lay a hull. Lat. 42.9 — 
Long. 61.52. 

September 22^. This day we struck Soundings 
on St. Georges Bank. Nantucket bears west 50 
leagues. We shall soon see the land — even our 
Dear Nantucket — So dayday both latitude and 
longitude. 

liCt us make one more whaling cruise with Peleg 
Folger. I will quote from his sea-journal of the 
year 1757, in the time of the French and Indian 
War :— 

June 18th. We saw a very large Seool of Sper- 
maeeties but thev Ran like Horses insomuch that 



164 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

tho' we hove our Boats & Strovd faithfully yet 
we could not Strike. We saw a ShiiJ off in the S E 
and she stood for us and rather wind fretted us— 
she hoiug an extraordinary good sailor. So we 
stood into tlie X W and the wind starting- in our 
favour we withered him al)out a mile. At Sunset 
We brought to under a Trysail. 

July 1st. This day Whales are very plenty and 
we kill'd one that till'd 15 Hogsheads. We saw a 
topsail vessel and we immediately made sail. It 
being very windy and a large sea going we car- 
ried away one of our shrouds. But we got up our 
tackles and runners in the room of our Shroud 
& setting 3 sails atanto we made our sloop buckle 
again. At the first hank we wither 'd our suppos'd 
Frenchman about 8 miles & then we discovered a 
vast fleet of Ships & other vessels to leeward. 
They appear 'd like a meer forest on the Ocean. 
How many there was we know not. We judged 
them to be an English fleet bound for Canada or 
Cape Breton. 

July 3<i we saw a Snow but we did not care to 
Speak with her so we Sprung our Luff and 
wither'd her about a mile. We judg'd her to be 
some PelloAv bound into Virginia or Somewhere 
Else. 

July 10th. Very rough Weather & we are under 
a Square sail right before a fresh S W Avind. We 
spy'd a Spermaceti close under our Bow & we got 
out 3 lances in order to kill her if we could but 
She went doMm just before we got up with her. 
Experience may teach us that Nothing can make 



SEA-JOURNALS AND SEA-ROVERS. 165 

a man happy save Quiet Conscience. About Sunset 
the wind had dy'd and the Sea had grown very 
smooth. We let run our Deep Sea Lead & had 
about an hundred & ten fathoms Avith the Stray 
which might be ten fathoms. We brought up on 
our Lead 3 or 4 Living Creatures a little more 
than an Inch long. They have four horns gi-owing 
our from the Crown of the head; they had two 
ClaAvs or Legs forAvard & Six towards his hinder 
parts; their Legs are very full of Joynts & appear 
to end in a Perfect Point & toward the end looked 
like white ivory. 

July 13th. We were on the GJrand Bank of 
Newfoundland & Ave stood off to the EastAvard and 
about Sunset by the sound of the Horns — it being 
very thick of fog — we found tAvo A'essels aa^Iio Avere 
Timothy Gardner and Richard Gardner A\'ho told 
us John Coffin had got about 100 Barrels and 
Uriah Coffin about as much. So Ave stood off in 
company Avith our mates & at 11 o 'Clock Ave let 
run our Lead and found no Bottom & so we 
Brought to under a Trysail & Foresail, being very 
thick of Fog and a small wind. 

July 18. We spoke Avith tAVO French ships Avho 
were fishermen & told us Cape Race bore North- 
Avest. We saAV di\'ers more ships that Ave did not 
speak Avith & at 10 p. m. Ave brought to for fear 
of them — it being exceeding dark. We took ye 
Sun's amplitude at his setting & found ye varia- 
tion of the Compass to be ll^ points nearest. Lat 
45:19 Long 48:50 (848 miles from Nantucket). 

July 30th. We struck a large Spermaceti & put 



166 SPUN- YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

into him three irons & one towiron. As soon as 
the towiron went into the whale he gave a flauk 
& went down, & coming up again he bolted his 
head out of water, as far down as his fins, and 
then pitch 'd the whole weight of his head on the 
Boat and stove ye Boat and niin'd her & kill'd 
the midshipman (an Indian named Sam Samson) 
outright. A sad & awful Providence. 

August 7th. Fine Aveather but no Whales to be 
seen. From 11 o'clock to 12 at night the sky glit- 
ter 'd with the Northern Lights, appearing Very- 
bright & luciferous like streaks of lightning. 

August 20th. We sp3''d a Spermaceti and struck 
her off the Bow & then we hove out our boats & 
kUl'd her & got her along side & cabled her and 
began to cut her up. There was a chopping sea 
going & but little wind. Our sloop girded most 
Violently & we parted one of our Runners twice 
& split the blocks & hurt one of our men & made 
Most Rucking work. At midnight the wind began 
to blow hard at N E and soon raised a bad sea. 
We parted our cable and lost our Whale from ye 
Bow. At 5 in the morning we Blew away our 
trisail & tore him out of the Boltropes and Ruined 
him entirely. 

August 21st. We made sail & found our Whale 
and cut up the Remainder. Her body fill'd 24 
hogsheads. Lat 45 :52. We blew away our foresail 
& we got a new one out of the hold &■ bent him, 
but did not set him for the wind shifted all at 
once and blew like a Scum. After a while we set 
our foresail and went like a Blaze to the west- 
ward. 



SEA- JOURNALS AND SEA-ROVERS. 167 

August 30th. Runniug to the westward, being 
thick of fog & we saw a noble Right Whale close 
under our counter, "We hove out our Boats to 
strike but she soon ran us out of sight in the fog. 
"We spoke with a sloop from Barnstable. He told 
as Fort Henry was taken. I hope soon we shall 
have a free wind and go with flowin sheets for we 
know not how far we are to the Eastward of the 
Grand Banks of Newfoundland. 

September 1st. A smart gale of wind at N E & 
We are scouting merrily west by compass. In the 
afternoon We struck soundings on the Grand 
Bank and catch 'd 20 noble codfish. We have run 
168 miles today. We are all in health and hope 
to see our Dear Nantucket in a short time. 
This sea-rover ends his journal by quoting from 
Francis Quarles: — 

"My Sin.s are like the hairs upou mine head, 
And raise their audit to as high a score. 
In this they differ — these do dayly shed; 
But ah! my Sins grow dayly more and more. 
If by mine hairs Thou number out my Sins, 
Heaven make me bald before the day begins. 
My Sins are like the sands upon the shore, 

Which every ebb lays open to the eye. 
In this they differ — these are cover 'd o 'er ; 
But ah I my Sins in View still open lie. 

Lord, if Thou make my head a sea of tears, 
Oh! that would wash away the sins of all my years. 
My Sins are like the stars within the skies, 

In View, in uumV)er, full as bright, as great. 
In this they differ- — these do set and rise; 
But ah! my Sins do rise but never set. 
Rise, Son of Glory, and my Sins are gone 
Like clouds or mists before the morning Sun." 



168 SPUN- YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

There was a young sea-rover of Nantucket who 
began his first journal, in the year 1754, with these 
words : — 

"Peter Folger his Book 
God give him Grace therein to Look. 
Not only to Look but Understand 
That learning is better than House or Land. 
The Eose is Red the Grass is Green 
The days have past which I have Seen. ' ' 

This inscription tells how much of a boy this rover 
was when he first went to sea. In time he grew 
manly, and liis sea-journal of the year 1761 begins 
with these words : — 

A Joiirnal of our Intended Voyage by God's 
Permission in the Good Sloop Endeavour. We sot 
Sail from Nantuckett the 9 day of July and went 
over the Bar and Come to Anchor and waited for 
our Indians. 

July ye 26 Ave saw a large School of Spalmo- 
cities. They ran so Fast we could not Catch them. 

July ye 27 we saw 3 Sparmocityes & killed one 
and Cut Her up. 

July y® 28 we saw 4 or 5 Spalmocytes we Tryed 
our whale Her Boddy made 38 bbls. Her Head 
12 hhds. 

July ye 20 we Stoed away our whale. We saw 
2 Sloops to the Easterd of us and we saw divers 
Sparmocities and we struck one and maid Her 
Spout Blood. She went down and their came a 
Snarl in the Toe line and catched John Meyriek 
and over sot the Boat and we never saw him after- 
wards. We saved the whale. 

August ye 14 \vv killed a Snnfish and we saw a 



SEA-JOURNALS AND SEA-ROVERS. 169 

School of Sparmocityes and our Partner killed one 
and Got her kableed and we killed another and 
saw two ships to wiudered ye wind at S AV and 
our partner cut from his whale and we cut from 
ourn abute 9 of Clock in ye morning. We stood 
to ye N. E. and our partner stood to ye S E — one 
Ship took us in Chase and ye other took our Part- 
ner in Chase. We elapt away large and sol our 
Square Sail and Topsail and got our fairsail under 
the Boom and made all ye Sail we could and 
brought her to windered and we held her toit and 
she firt^ a Gun at 4 O'clock in ye after Noon and 
at 6 under English Coulers She left us and stood 
to ye S W and we stood to N E. We have lost our 
Consort because these Ships they chased us from 
9 in ye Morning till Sun Sett. So ends ye Dtiy all 
in Good health by God's Blessing. 
In the latter part of the last century, ships of 
three hundred tons burden took the place of small 
sloops in cruises for whales; they went below the 
equator, and at last found their way .iround the 
capes into the Pacific and Indian oceans. Tavo of the 
ships that brought the obnoxious tea to Boston, in 
December. 1773. were whaling-ships of Nantucket. 
They had carried their i-atches from the South Seas 
to London, and were returning home with general 
merchandise by way of Boston. After unloading 
cargoes at that port. — excei)ting the tea. which was 
thrown into Boston harbor by a mob disguised as 
Indians. — the ships sailed to Nantucket, where one 
of them the Beaver, was fitted for a cruise in the 
south Atlantic: and another, the Dartmouth, was 



170 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

loaded with sperm oil and sent to London just be- 
for the American Revolution began. 

Nantucket whalemen were ruined by the Revolu- 
tion. After the war was ended, sperm oil, for which 
England had been the principal market, was taxed 
an alien duty of £18 sterling per ton; and therefore 
it became necessary for the people of the island to 
make some new adjustment of their whaling busi- 
ness. There appeared no alternative but to transfer 
it to England. With this object in view, William 
Rotch, a successful merchant of Nantucket, sailed 
for London in his ship Maria, July 4. 1785. accom- 
panied by his son Benjamin. He visited the Channel 
ports in search of a suitable location for the whaling 
business, selected Falmouth, and then made his pro- 
posals to the British government. Not meeting Avith 
success, he crossed the Channel to Dunkirk in 
France, where, aided by Shubel Gardner, of Nan- 
tucket, who had been a prisoner in England, and by 
a native of Dunkirk, named Francois Coffyn, who 
served as an interpreter, his proposals were writ- 
ten to the French government and sent to Paris. He 
stipulated for liberty to emigrants from Nantucket 
to worsliip as Quakers; for their exemption from 
military duty; for a bounty per ton on Nantucket 
ships engaged in Mb a ling from French ports; the 
free entry of their oil ; and tbat the ships should be 
commanded by Nantucket men. His proposals were 
accepted, and he sailed for honu' in December. 1786, 
to prepare for a transfer of his whaling business to 
France. 

England reduced the import duties on oil, and 



SEA- JOURNALS AND SEA-ROVERS. 1 7 1 

France failed to pay the bounty; then the French 
Revolution came, with its compulsory oath and mil- 
itary service, bringing trouble to the Quakers at 
Dunkirk. On the 10th of February, 1791. William 
Rotch, Benjamin Rotch, and a French Quaker named 
Marsillac appeared (with their hats on) before the 
National Assembly at Paris, over which Mirabeau was 
presiding, and asked permission to present a memo- 
rial explaining the Quakers' objection to taking an 
oath and bearing the arms of war. Their memorial 
was referred to a committee, and in the following 
September the original engagements with Nantucket 
whalemen were confirmed by the Assembly. 

The men of the little island of Nantucket were 
natural sea-rovers, for whom the charms of home 
were charming only in the short intervals between 
their voyages. After they had gone to sea their 
wives adopted a penurious style of housekeeping, in 
order to save money for the beloved sea-rover 
against his return. Perhaps he did not return at the 
expected time; born with an instinct for adventure, 
his absence may have been prolonged by repeated 
cruises on distant seas, and Avanderings on distant 
shores, until the Nantucket home had been effaced 
from his thoughts. And when, like a new Ul.ysses, 
he came back to it after many years of absence and 
silence, there was no reason for surprise if Penelope, 
tired of waiting for him, had finished her weaving 
and had accepted an importunate suitor to fill his 
place. 

Shubel Worth, a sea-rover of the true blue, was 
cruising in the South Seas when the War of the 



172 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

Kevolutiuu began. On arriving at Nantucket he 
learned that his wife and children had left the 
island and gone to find a safe retreat in her father's 
house, in Saratoga County. New York. As the war 
prevented him from going to sea again, he folloAved 
his family, bought a farm, and cultivated it. One 
day, after the return of peace, he drove a load of his 
farm's produce to the village of Hudson, expecting 
to sell it and return to his home within three days. 

Three days, three weeks, three months, three years 
passed; — "and where Avas Enoch?" He had not ob- 
literated himself from human society, as did the 
"strong heroic soul" portrayed in Tennyson 's poem, 
but he had suddenly gone a-sea-roving. On arriving 
at Hudson, and learning that a ship was fitting (mt 
at New Bedford for a whaling cruise along the coasts 
of Greenland, he put his farm produce aboard a 
sloop, sailed with it to New Bedford, sold it to the 
outfitters of the Greenland shij). and went to s^a in 
her as first officer. The ship ended her voyage at 
Dunkirk. Here he took command of the ship 
Criterion, and sailed on a cruise to the Indian Ocean. 
Returning to Dunkirk with a cargo of oil. he sailed 
again; cruised on the Pacific Ocean, and carried an- 
other cargo of oil to Dunkirk. At the end of the 
last voyage he returned to his home, from which he 
had been absent five years instead of three days. 
The restlessness of the sea-rover was in him. and he 
went to sea again, but he never returned home. He 
died on board his ship while she lay at anchor in the 
harbor of the island of St. Helena. 

I copy two or three days from his sea journal, 



SEA- JOURNALS AND SEA-ROVERS. 173 

written while cruising in the Indian Ocean: — 

Ship Criterion, May 19th — at 4 p m took a Lunar 
observation, found our Longitude 107° -32' East of 
Loudon Latitude is 7°-38' South. Land baring 
N E to N W 8 Leages — fine weather all drawing 
Sail Set. Steared for the Laud. Saw a School of 
Spermaceti es beaded off Shore. 

Friday .May 22^. Lay'd oft' & on the Land till 
day Light then Steared for Java Head baring N 
in 25 Fathoms. Got up the boarding Neting. Got 
under way for ]\Iew Isle watering place. Sent the 
yawl ashore to find the water. Saw a number of 
men on the Isle. Before the boats Got at Shore Saw 
10 Prowes coming for us. Saw theare Guns Glitter- 
ing. Set the coulers to the Ship & fired one 4 
pounder. The Prowes fired a Number of guns at 
us. Got under way and set all Sail. So ends all 
well. 

Wednesday IMay 25th. Came to anchor in 23 
Fathoms water. Got in Red-dyness for Battle 
with the Pirot Maylays. Saw a great Number of 
Maylay fishing boats. Got under way for .Anger 
Rhodes. At 6 ^ ^ came to anchor — Batavia 
Church baring N N W. 
A sea rover was David Brown, of the ship Manilla. 

I quote one day from his sea-journal in the South 

Atlantic Ocean : — 

December 1st 1791. Down a boat and caught 
a Sea Dog. Running S W with two ships bearing 
West, one a trying. Saw Avhales aud gave chase. 
Hove to under 3 staysails headed to the south- 
M-ard. At 1 p m saw whales. Killed 3 & at 5 p ^^ 



174 SPUN- YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

caine on board without any. Went ott' again & 
kill'd one and took her a long side. Spoke William 
Bunker with 600 Barrels. Lat. 37-20 S. 
A sea-rover of Nantucket made a discovery in the 
South Pacific Ocean which is still a theme of history. 
In January, 1789, the British ship Bounty sailed from 
Otaheiti with a crew whose attachments to the 
women of that tropical island made them reluctant 
to leave it. Soon after sailing, twenty-five mutineers 
seized control of the ship, and sent adrift in a boat 
the commander with his officers and the loyal mem- 
bers of his crew. The mutineers sailed the Bounty 
back to Otaheiti, where sixteen of them landed with 
the expectation of leading lives of endless enjoy- 
ment. The nine who did not land took aboard 
nine women of the island as wives, and six men as 
servants, and then sailed away. What became of 
them was a mystery for nineteen years, or until May- 
hew Folger, of Nantucket, cruising for whales in the 
ship Topaz, fell in with Pitcairn's Island, on a Feb- 
ruary morning of the year 1808. This island which 
is about two miles wide and three miles long, rises 
abruptly from the deep sea to the height of a thou- 
sand feet. On a plateau, four hundred feet above 
the ocean. Captain Folger found a little pastoral 
village peopled by descendants of the nine mutineers 
of the Bounty and their Otaheitian wives. I quote 
from his sea-journal : — • 

Saturday February 6th 1808. At 2 a m saw Pit- 
cairn's Island bearing South. Lay off and on till 
daylight. At 6 a m put off with two boats to ex- 
plore the land and look for seals. On approach- 



SEA- JOURNALS AND SEA-ROVERS. 175 

iug- the shore saw siuokc^ on the hiiul at whieh I 
was very niiieh surprised as tlie island was said 
to be iiniuhabited. I discoveretl a boat paddling 
towards me with three men in her. They hailed 
in the English language & asked who was the 
captain of the ship. They offered me gifts of 
cocoanuts &. requested I would land, there being 
a white man on shore. I went ashore & found an 
Englishman named Alexander Smith, the only 
person remaining ont of nine that eseajied on 
board the ship Bounty. Smith informed me that 
after putting Capt. liligh in the long boat and 
sending her adrift, Christian, their chief proceeded 
with the ship to Otaheitia. There all the mutineers 
chose to stop except Christian, himself, and seven 
others, who took Avives and also six men as ser- 
vants, and immediately proceeded to Pitcairn's 
Island where they landed all the goods and chat- 
tels, ran the Bounty on shore and broke her up. 
This took place, as near as he conld recollect, in 
the year 1790: soon after Avhich one of their party 
ran mad and drowned himself, another died of a 
fever; and after they had remained about four 
year on the island, their men servants rose uj) 
and killed six of them, leaving only Smith alive, 
and he desperately wounded with a pistol ball in 
the neck. However he and the widows of the 
deceased arose and put all the servants to death, 
whieh left him the only surviving man on the 
island Avith eight or nine women and several small 
children. He immediately went to work tilling the 
ground so that it produces plenty for them all. and 



1 76 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

lie lives very comfortably as commander-in-chiei: 
of Pitcairii's Island. All the children of the 
deceased mutineers speak tolerable English. Some 
of them ;ire grown to the size of men and wouien, 
and to do tliem Justice I tliink thiMu very humane 
and lios})itable people; and whatever may have 
been the errors or crimes of Smith the mutineer 
in times back he is at present a worthy man and 
may be useful to navigators who traverse this 
immense ocean. I tarried on shore with the 
fricuidly Smith and his truly good people till 4 p. m. 
and then left him and Avent on board the Topaz 
and made sail steering for IMasafuera, having re- 
ceived from the people on sliore some hogs cocoa- 
nuts and plantains.^ 

^ After this visit by Captain Folger, Smith changed his name to John 
Adams, by which name he has been called in histories of the mutiny of 
the ship Bounty. 

The wars provoked by Napoleon touched the 
whaling-ships of Nantucket in many ways. In the 
year 1808. England was allied with Spain in a w'ar 
against France, and defeated the French army at the 
battle of Talavera in June. 1809. Whaling-ships 
were now armed; and because they carried arms and 
large crews they Avere sometimes arrested on high 
seas under suspicion that they were belligerents dis- 
guised as whalemen. A story of such an arrest is 
told in the sea-journal of Captain Charles Gardner, 
who was cruising the ship Argo in the South Seas. 
I copy it exactly as it was written in the journal : — 
1809 Sunday November 5 in Lat. 17-27'' South. 
Standing in by the Wind East at 2pm saw a Ship 
2 points off the Weather bow. Saw that She had 



SEA-JOURNALS AND SEA-ROVERS. 1 77 

all Sail out and coming for iis. Sterrd ou til She 
was of the Stcirboard beam then up ("orscs and 
backed the main yard. She came within hail and 
ordered a boat on board witli the papers, i sent 
the boat and the eheaf ^late with the papers. He 
was detained onboard the Private Spanish Ship of 
war & all the boats erne but one was Stoped and 
two officers and boats Crue from the Spanish Ship 
Came onboard the Argo & Sent more of my hands 
onboard the Vulter. At 7 p m they onbent the 
]Mainsail and the boat Came from the Vulter with 
more Spanish men & took Charge of the Argo and 
wore Ship and Steerd on- a wind to the South all 
night in company with the Vulter. At 7 a m short- 
ened Sail and lay ])y. The Captain of the Vulter 
Came on board and brought the Argos papers that 
I had sent by the nuite & asked me if T knew 
them. I- told him 1 did. He wished for a Candle 
Avhicli was brot him. He told me all other i)apers 
would be no youse to me hear after and in my 
presence Sealed the i)apers up. I asked him if it 
was war. He told me that was none of my 
Business. I Should See & would give me no Sat- 
isfaction but told me to go on Deck which we ded 
and he Looked at the Ship. 

He asked how nuiiiy guns I had. I told him. 
He asked why I run from him to Luard. I told 
him I did not. he told me I did and a Whale Ship 
had no business with guns— and where the guns 
was. I told him Some in the hole & some on 
Deck, he in a rnf tone told me I had mounted 
them 4 on Deck after Seeing him. I told him 



178 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

no — he told me he knew better than that. After a 
little time on Deck he told me he wished to go 
below in the Cabin and look about the Ship. I told 
him any part he wished to See Should be Shone 
him. He told his officers and men to open the 
after hachway and brake up the hole to the elison 
— and Capt & Some men brock uj) the run & took 
all the casks out. and all the powder (uit of the 
magersean, and the Officers took more than 40 
Casks out of the after hole and Some out of the 
main hach and oppen'd the Casks of Sails & Bread. 

The Capten Cut open my Slops with his own 
hand and made me turn up my bead and made 
me take everything out of my trunks, and told me 
my own handkercliiefs was Spanish and told me 
I had Money onlioar-d and that I had no Business 
with guns & with a Drum and that I lyed & Avhat 
I told him was lyes. I told him what 1 told him 
was truths and whatever Constniektions he 
pleased to put on it I could not helji. but I never 
was told so before — and he Seamed Displeased 
notwithstanding 1 did everything in my power 
to Shoe him all ])arts of the Argo and everything 
onboard. 

At halfpast 12 thre»^ Ships hove iti Sight and 
half an hour after the Capt went to his own Ship 
and told me he would Send my papers and men. 
which he ded & told my mate 1 mite go where I 
pleased — but he left the Argo with ")() oi- 60 Casks 
on Deck that they had taken out of the hole and 
much wood the ^lainsail liaying in a heap on Deck, 
the Ship in grate confusion & three Shi|)s come 
for us. 



SEA-JOURNALS AND SEA-ROVERS. 1 79 

]\l()iuUiy Nov'" 6. First i)art laying b\' and 
geting the Decks Cleared. At 5 p m Stod towards 
the Ships and found them to be Whalers and the 
Vulter had Spook them and her boats were along 
Side. We Stod by and ded not Speack them Stand- 
ing to the S S W— 4 Ships in Sight to the S S E. 
Dul times and No whales. Latt by Obs" 17°-87' 
South. 

The days of "dull times and no whales" did not 
last long after this privateer had left the Argo. As a 
contrast to her bad luek with the Spaniard. I <iuote 
one day from Captain Gardner's sea-journal: — 

No. 25th. At 2 p M saw Sperm Whales. Went off 
and got six. At 7 p m got them to the ship. One 
boat stove. At meridian got aboard tive. Litt- 
wind. Latt by observation 18'^ -09' South. 
These journals of sea-rovers are a valualde ac- 
cessory to the picture of Quaint Nantucket. The\' 
reveal the boldness and extent of that hazardous 
business which, during a centiu-y and a half, eidisted 
all the wealth and enterprise of the island. Xo^\' 
Nantucket is maiming no more whale-ships, is 
writing ni» more sea-journals. The days have gone 
when — 

"There was ricli reward tor the lookout man, tobaeco for every 

sail. 
And a liarrel of oil for the lucky iU>^ who M lie first to raise a 

\\ hale. 



180 SPUN- YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

CHAPTER XII. 

An Account of the Nantucket Indians. 

ZACCHEUS MACY'S LETTER. 

Nantucket, ye 2d y© lOmo 1792, 
My Friend and Kiu.sniaii, — Agreeable to the re- 
quest of the ^Massachusetts Ilistorieal Society, I have 
Avrote aud explained many words and names of 
certain parts and places of or on the island of Nan- 
tucket, both in English and Indian, as Avell as I 
could; but there is not one person now left that I 
can get any help from in these matters. So T have 
wrote as well as 1 can on the aifairs or matters, but 
I >sometimes fear whether it may not seem tiat and 
old to them, but I have not wrote anything but wdiat 
I am very sure is true, according to the best account 
I could get. 

Account of the names of the old Sachems and some 
of the most respectable Indians, and their habita- 
tions, taken from the best authors that could be had 
ye 15 ye 3'"o 17()3. At that time there were living 
near about 370 of the natives on the island of Nan- 
tucket. Per me the subscril^er. 

Wannochmamock was the first Sachem at the south- 
east i)art of the island, when the English first came 
to Nantucket. Next to him was his son Sousoauco, 
and next to him wer*^ his two sons called Cain and 
Abel. Tbese two agreed to divide the Sa(^hem right, 
two-third ]^arts to Cain, and one-third part to Abel. 
The said Cain had one daughtei*, whose name was 



ZACCHEUS MACY'S LETTER. 181 

Jeiuiuia, married to James Shaa. From Abel sprang 
Eben Abel, and from him sprang Benjamin Abel, the 
last Sachem, from wliom f bought all his right, title, 
and property that he had on said island, for and in 
behalf of the whole English {)roprietors. All the said 
Jemima's right was bought by our old proprietors 
many years before, as may fnlly appear on our rec- 
ords. Their lands or bounds began at a place on the 
.south side of the island, called Touphchue Pond: and 
ran across to the northward to a l)rown rock marked 
on the west side, that lies to the northward of our 
^vashing pond, called Clibbs Pond, on the west side 
of Saul's Hills and so over towards Polpis swamp, 
and then to the eastward to a place Sesacacha Pond 
by the east sea. At the southeast part of said tract 
is a high blufit' called Tom Never 's Head, and about 
two miles to the northward stands our famous fishing 
stage houses, where our sick people go for their health, 
called Siasconset : and about a mile still to the north- 
ward is a very high clitf of land called Sancota Head; 
then about a mile still to the northward stands an- 
other fishing stage called Sesacacha. 

Next begins the old Sachem called Wauwinet: his 
bounds begin adjoining to the northward of the said 
Wannochmamock's land and run still along to the 
northward and take in all Squam, and run on to our 
long sandy point, called Coatue or Nauma, which in 
the English is Long Point, where our Massachusetts 
lighthouse now stands; and then to the westward to 
New Town; then to tlie southward to a i)laee called 
Weweder Ponds, which in English signifies a pair of 
horns, by reason there are two ponds that run to a 



182 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

point next to the sea, and spread apart so as to leave a 
neck of land, called Long Joseph's Point, which two 
ponds spread apart so as to resemble a pair of horns. 
And the said Wauwinet liad two sons : the oldest was 
named Isaac, but was mostly called Nicornoose, which 
signifies in English to suck the fore teat ; and his sec- 
ond son was named Wawi)ordonggo, which in English 
is wliite face, for his face was on one side white, and 
the other brown or Indian color. And the said Nicor- 
noose married, and had one son named Isaac, and one 
daughter; and then he turned away his proper wife, 
and took another woman, and had two sons Wat and 
Paul Noose; and when his true son Isaac grew up to 
be a man, he resented his father's behavior so nuich 
that he went off and left them for the space of near 
fifty years, — it was not known where. And in that 
time his true sister married to one Daniel Spotsor, and 
he reigned Sachem, liy his wife, near about forty 
years ; and we made large purchases of the said 
8potsors. And then about sixty years past or more, 
there came an Indian man from Nauset, called Great 
Jethro, and he brouglit Judali Paddock and one 
Hause with liim, and he challenged the Sachem right 
by being son to the said true son of Nicornoose; and 
Avhen they first opened the matter to our old proprie- 
tors, they contrived to keep the said Jethro close, 
until they could send some good committee to find out 
by our old Indians, whether they ever knew or heard 
of the said Nicornoose liaving such a sou gone, and 
they soon found out by tlie old Indians that he had, 
])ut they had not lieard what was become of him. So 
they soon found they should lose all they had bought 



ZACCHEUS MACY'S LETTER. 183 

of the said Si^otsors ; then they held a parley witli the 
said Jethro, and agreed to buy all his right, title, and 
property that lie owned on said island, as appears 
on our records. And the said Nicornoose gave deeds 
to his two bastard sons, Paul and Wat Noose, forty 
acres each, a little to the eastward of Podpis village. 
The first Sachem at tlie southwest part of said isl- 
and, liis bounds were at the said Weweder Ponds, 
and from thence to the northward to a place called 
Gunsue meadow at ]\lonemoy,* where we now call 
New Town, and from thence westward along to the 
southward of the hills called Popsquatchet Hills, 
where our three mills now stand, and so to the west 
sea called Tawtemeo, which we call the Hummock 
Pond. And his name was Autapscot. Next to him 
was his son called Harry Poritain. Next to him was 
Peter ]\Iansau(|uit. Next 1o liim was Isaac Peter. 
Next to him was lame Isaac, of whom we ])ought 
the last and all that Sachem I'ight; and their habita- 
tion was Moyaucomet, which signifies a nu^eting 
place, and their meeting house they call ^loyaucomor. 
And the said Autapscot was called a great warrior, 
and got his land by his bow. 

* That part of the town in « liidi is luiw embiaced Cuiisue, Poverty 
Point, and the Goose Pond. 

The fourth Sachem was at the nortliwest part called 
Potconet, and owned all the little island called Tuck- 
ernuck, whidi signifies in English a loaf of bread, and 
liis bounds extended from Madaket down eastward to 
Wesko, which in English is the white stone, and so on 
to the north side of Autapscot land, all bought of him 
at the coming of the English, saving some particular 
tracts tliat belonged to the Jafets and the Hoights 
and some others. 



184 SPUN- YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

Now I shall sfive some of the most respectable In- 
dians in Wannochmamoek's l)Ounds. There was James 
Mamack, a minister of the gospel and justice of the 
peace, and l^ehaved well in his station. Old .Esop, the 
weaver, wa.s a schoolmaster. Old Saul, a very stern- 
lookinp' okl Dian. Joslnia ]\lamack succeeded in his 
father James ]Mamack's place. Richard Nominash 
and his brotl^.er Sampson and little Jethro were all 
very suhstan^ial, and a number more very trusty men. 

The most noted Indian in Autapscot's bounds were 
Benjamin Tasliima. a nnnistcr of tlie gospel and a 
schoolmastei-, to teach the chihlren to read and write. 
He was grandson to the old Sachem. But tliere was 
an old Indian named Zacehary Hoite, a minister be- 
fore the said Tashima, but he did not behave so well. 
He told his heai'ers they must do as he said and not 
as he did. 

And there was one Indian man, liis name was James 
Skouel, but was mostly trailed Corduda (Kadooda?). 
He was justice of the peace, and very sharj) with them 
if they did not behave well. He would fetch them up 
when they did not tend their corn well, and order 
them to liave ten stripes on their backs, and for any 
rogue tricks and getting drunk. And if his own 
children phiyed any rogue tricks, he would serve them 
the same sg,uce. There happened to be some English- 
men at his court, when a man was brought up for some 
rogue tricks, and one of tliese men was named Nathan 
Coleman, a pretty crank sort of a man, and the Indian 
man pleaded for an appeal to Esquire Bunker; and 
tlie old judge turned round to said Nathan and spoke 
in tlie Indian language thus; "{'ha<|uor Keador tad- 



ZACCHEUS MACVS LETTER. 185 

dator witc-lic conit-liau iniissoy t-luKiuor .'" then said 
Nathan answered tluis : ''^lartau eouetchawidde 
neeonne sassaiayste nehotie nioehe, S(|nife Hunker": 
which in the Englisli tongue is thus: "What do you 
think ahout tliis great Ijusiness?" tlien Nathan 
answered, "Maybe you had better whij) him tirst, then 
let him go to Squire Hunker": and the old judge 
took Nathan's advice. And so Nathan answered two 
purpases: the one was to see the Indian whipped; the 
other was, he was sure tlie Indian would not want to 
go to P]s<|uire i Junker for Tear of another whipping. 

1 will say sometliing more in reconunendation of 
some of our old Indian natives. They were very solid 
and sober at tlieir mi^etings of worship, and carried 
on in the form of Presbyterians, but in one thing 
imitated the Friends or (Quakers, so called; which 
was to hold meetings on the tirst and tifth days of 
the week, and attended their meetings very precisely. 
I have been at their meetings many times and seen 
their devotion; and it was remarkably solid, and I 
could understand the most of what was said, and they 
always ])laced us in a suitable seat to sit, and they 
were not put by, by our coming in, but rather 
appeared glad to see us coiue in. And a minister is 
called Cooutaumnchary. 

And as I said l)efore, they had justices, constables, 
grand jurymen, and carried on for a great many 
years many of them very well and precisel.y, and 
lived in very good fashion. Some of them were 
weavers, some good carpenters. 

Now I will begin at the west end of the island, 
which we call Smith's Point, but the Indians call 
Nopque, which was called a landing place when they 



186 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

came from tin- Vineyard, but they eall it ■Xoai)X; 
tlien eastward about three miles eomes the Hiim- 
moek Pond, where we once had a great number of 
wliale houses with a nmst raised for a lookout, with 
holes boi'ed through and sticks put in like a ladder, 
to go up; then al)out three miles eastward to the 
said Weweder Ponds stood another parcel of whale 
liouses, then about three miles eastward to Nobedeer 
Pond was where Benjamin Gardner lived formerly, 
then about three and on(^-half miles eastward is the 
aforesaid Tom Never 's Head, tiien two miles to the 
northward is the famous town or fishing stage called 
Siasconset. then about one mile noi'thward is the 
high head of land called Sancoty Head, and the 
Indians called Na]ihchecoy, which signihc^s round the 
liead, and then about one mile noi'thward is the afore- 
said Sesacacha Pond, where our otlier fishing stage 
stands. 

Then begins the said S(|uam, and runs north two 
miles to the beginning of our said long sandy point 
• Nauma; and the tirst is one mile to a ])lace called 
Causkata Pond, where are some woods and meadow ; 
and four miles noi'thward is where the said ^fassaehu- 
setts lighthouse is, on the north end of said ])oint. 
Then about one mile north of the entering on of the 
above said long ])oint begins another neck or beach, 
called Little Coetue, and runs about five miles on 
about a west by south course till it comes within 
about one mile of our town called Wesko, which makes 
the last side of the entering in of our harbor. Then 
next to the said S(piam westward is the village called 
Podpis Neck, where our fulling mill stands. Then 



ZACCHEUS MACY'S LETTER. 187 

next westward is the famous neck of land called 
Quaise or ]\laisqnatuek Neek, whieh in the English 
signities the reed land, which was a tract of land given 
to Thomas AFayhew from one of the old Sachems, and 
was reserved by the said ]Mayhe\v to himself when he 
sold his patent right to the proprietors; which neek 
makes the west side of the said Podpis Harbor, now 
owned by Josiah I^arker, Es(i., and Capt. Shuabel Cof- 
fin and Capt. Thomas Delano. The next westward is 
the Josiah Barker's lot or field, called Sliow Aueamor, 
which in English signifies the middle field of land. 
Then about four miles westward is the town called 
Weseo; then next westward is a place called Water- 
comet, which signifies a pond field, w'hich was for- 
merly owned liy tln^ old natives called the Hoites. 
Then next westward is the great pond called Cuppame, 
where old Tristram Coffin lived, the old grand- 
father to almost all of us, which was owned by 
the old families of the natives called the Jafets; then 
next westward about four miles is called Eel Point 
and ]\faddaket Harl)or. which is the northwest part 
of the said island; and then about two miles Avest- 
ward is the said little island called Tuckernuck, which 
signifies in English a loaf of bread, for it appears 
round, and in the middle pretty high ; which was 
bought by the said old Tristram Coffin from the old 
Sachem Potconet, in the year 1659, by virtue of a 
patent he had from New York. 

Excuse me for errors and poor writing and spelling, 
and consider me in station of life worn out. 

By 

Zaccheus Macy. 



188 SPUN- YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

Extracts from Trustiim and His Grandchildren. 
The Shearing Festival. 

The whaling business was now claiming tiie whole 
attention of the eonnminity; from the ])eginning of 
the year to its end nothing oeeiirred to divert 
their attention from the one principal pursuit, Avith 
the one exception of shearing. As regularly as the 
summer returned, the ^londay and Tuesday nearest 
the twentieth of June were set apart, for the jturposo 
of washing and shearing their sheep. Shearing was 
near at hand, so near that the eastern shearing had 
commenced. The Weseo folks, who sheared their 
sheep at Wannacomet, and washed them in the waters 
of the old Washing Pond, would commence their work 
when the eastern shearing was tinished. As a matter 
of convenience, the eastern inhabitants of the Island 
had selected a spot at the east of the town, and on the 
day appointed, all assisted in the work. When the 
eastern shearing was finished, the western commenced, 
and on that occasion, young and old collected upon 
the shearing ground, for a day of general enjoyment, 
as well as to I'ender assistance in the shape of prepar- 
ing meals, etc. Eunice Pinkham, wife of Solomon, 
had been busy in her kitchen for two days, from morn- 
ing till night; there were long rows of pies stacked 
away in the milkroom, Iqaves of plain cake and loaves 
of plum cake, while the shearing buns were to be meas- 



THE SHEARING FESTIVAL. 189 

ured by the Itushcl : a huge loaf of In-own broad, 
steaming hot, had just l)een placed upon the table, 
and now Euniee was engaoed in the mysteries of a 
chiekeu-pie, sometliing that would "hang by," as 
Solomon had said that morning, as he was making 
preparations to go out with John Gardner, Lonker, 
and drive u]) tlieir sheep. This was a part of the 
preparatory business of shearing. For several days 
before shearing the commons would be seen dotted 
here, there and everywhere, with men in carts, and 
men on foot, men in groups, and men alone by them- 
selves, all intent on the one general object, hunting 
and driving uj) tJKMr sheej). 

Solomon Pinkham and Jolm Gardner, Lonker, had 
b(^en out only the week l)ef()re. on a tour of discovery, 
that they might have au idea of the whereabouts of 
tlu'ir own particular animals, and had easily recog- 
nized them, even at a distance; for Solomon's sheep 
were marked with a lai'ge, ])lack cross on the left side, 
looking for all the world, as old Slocum Russell re- 
marked, as though Solomon Pinkham didn't know 
enough to si)ell his own name, and had put a cross 
instead. Put Solomon took no notice of what old 
Slocum Russell luid to say, neither did an.yone else, 
for that matter, but still continued to make an X his 
mark, on the larboard side of his ' ' creeturs, ' ' by which 
means he was always enabled to identify them a long 
distance oft', while John Gardner, Lonker, whose mark 
was a long, red J, connnencing at the back of the 
sheep's neck, and running lengthwise down the back, 
was obliged to take a closer inspection, to distinguish 
them from others, whose marks bofe a resemblance to 



190 SPUN- YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

his. Jn addition to these, eMch sheep-owner had his 
own partieulai", i)i-ivate mark, which was duly regis- 
tered in the town records, sometliing by which they 
<-oukl i)rove their property, if it happened, as it often 
woukl, tliat in riiltbing through the bushes the painted 
marks woukl be ol)literated, or so altered })y pieces of 
wool being torn off by the vines and brambles, that 
the original mark would be difficult to distinguish 
from the mark of another person's property, painted 
with tlie same color and in the same place. 

Now. John Gardner's sheej) generally kept [)retty 
<'lose to those of Solomon Pinkham, perhaps from the 
fact that Solomon had several years previous bought 
n dozen or so from John; and so it happened that 
Solomon and John usually went out in company, when 
shearing week drew near, for Solomon's mark loomed 
up with full eflfect in the distance, and wherever Solo- 
mon Pinkham found his flock of sheep, there tTohn 
Gardner, Lonker. was pretty c(n-tain his would be 
found also. They had seen tlieir sheep only the week 
previous, after a short searci), and were now tolerably 
■certain tliat they had not wandered far from the 
Ticinity of Trott's Swamp, where they were (piietly 
grazing, when the\- last saw theni: and so directihg 
their course towards this locality, they rode leisurely 
along, discussing the probal)ilities of their sons, John 
Pinkham and Peleg Gardner, being at home before 
many weeks, possibly before the end of that one. John 
iind Peleg had l)een at sea for more tluui a year, John 
nearly two years; they had been lieen spoken by sloop 
Polly, just arrived, so that unless tlu'y shoidd be cap- 
itui-ed l)y tile French |)rivateers, which infested the 



THE SHEARING FESTIVAL. 191 

track of the American whalers, or a severe storm 
should arise, it was probable they were not many days' 
sail from home. Thus they rode along, nntil they 
reached the locality where Ihey expected to tind the 
two tiocks, when suddenly, John (Jardner exclaimed, 
''There's a few of the bhick pirates, whei'e ccin tlie rest 
be?'' Solomon looked in the directiou indicated by 
John, and there, true enough, were fifteen or twenty 
sheep, where there should have been a hundred or 
more; riding on round a bend in the road they des- 
cried another small flock, and riding on, over a consid- 
erable tract of land nearly to the Long Pond, they 
succeeded in finding all but one or two. and thinking 
the best plan would be to drive them up to the pens 
and secure them, they {proceeded to do so, intending 
to return afterwards and hunt up tiie missing animals. 
And now, Solomon Pinkham's mark stootl him in good 
service, for running first this way, then that, as they 
would persist in doing, John Gardner's patience was 
taxed to the utmost, to get one good square look at the 
letter upon their back, before another would crowd in 
before him, but as nearly as they coidd both calculate 
there were only two missing, both belonging to John 
Clardner. Solomon's were all safe. 

As they arrived at the ground, they found Peter 
("offin, just landed from Tuckernuck, and the story 
he had to relate will presently l)e told. Peter Coffiu. 
Tuckernuck, son of John, sheriff, and grandson of 
Jethi'o -and Mary, had l)y the death of his wife, Susy 
Bunker, been left a widower, with one little daughter, 
Lydia. He had at this [>eriod, a second wife, Judith,, 
widow of Jo.siah Gardner, son of Jolm, 3d. Judith 



192 SPUN. YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

was also a granddaughter of Richard and Mary Pink- 
ham, and likewise a cousin of Solomon Pinkham. 
Judith, with Lydia, daughter of Peter's first wife, had 
come over with Peter from Tuckernuck, and while he 
had remained to gather his sheep together, they had 
continued on to Wesco, to take up their ahode with 
Solomon and Eunice Pinkham until after the shearing 
festivities. And this was the story that Peter Coffin, 
Tu<'kernu('k, had to relate to Solomon Pinkham and 
John Gardner, as they chose the softest side of the 
s]icar-i)en fence to sit ui)on, while thcA^ discussed such 
subjects as men usually discuss, when they meet after 
an absence of twenty-four hours : 

"As I was hauling up my boat," said Peter, "after 
the women folks had landed and gone on, I landed a 
leetle to the west'ard of the cliff, you see; well, as 1 
w-as a hauling on my boat up, I heerd a sheep crying 
and blatting; close by it sounded. I thought it an 
unconnnon queer place for a lone sheep at this time, 
and was just starting on to see what Avas the matter, 
when a sheep come a jumping out from that 'ere gully 
t'other side of Capaum. and run like allpossesed over 
on the commons. 1 didn 't get much chance to see, it 
came so sudden like, but I could almost take my oath 
upon it that that 'ere sheep had John Gar'ner's mark 
on its back. I was so struck like, that I left my boat 
half tied, and Avent over by the gully, and there set 
old Slocum Russell, with his knife in his hand, and as 
soon as he set eyes on me, be began digging in the 
sand, and turned round back to. 'Hello, old fellow^' 
says I, 'what are you up to down here?' 'Pooquaw's,' 
says he, 'I'm hunting for pooquaws for a shearing pie, 



THE SHEARING FESTIVAL. 193 

but tlie}^ seems to be so scarce 1 guess I'll go off and 
drive up uiy sheep.' "Now," says Peter, "1 didn't 
tell the old varmint what my idees were, but I did 
think it looked a leetle suspicious to tind Slocum Rus- 
sell hunting for pooquaws way up in that 'ere beach 
sand above higli water mark, and a sheep a leaping 
right by hiiu and he never had a word to say .ihout 
it." 

That was Peter Cotifiu's story as they s;it th'.M-c on 
the fence, and, on learning the condition in which 
Solomon and John had found their slieei), coupled 
with tJie fact that one or two were yet missing, it was 
not difficult to conjecture what kind of a trick Slocum 
Eussell had been engaged in, particularh^ as he had 
been suspected of the same act several times before. 
Now, Slocum Russell owned a large Hock of sheep, 
marked on the back with red paint, very shnilar to 
John uardner's, with the single exception that instead 
of a .1, was a mark extending round somewhat like 
an unfinished U, and this mark, by a little rub])ing 
and tearing, might easily be made to look so nearly 
like John Gardner's that it was often a question 
whether a sheep bore the full mark of John Gardner, 
or a partly obliterated one of Slocum Russell. In 
addition to this was the fact that the private mark 
of John Gardner's sheep, was a slit in the right ear 
and a notch in the left, while that of Slocum Russell's 
was exactly the same, with the addition of another slit 
in the right ear. Before proceeding farther, we will 
give a brief description of Slocum Russell, first, in- 
forming the reader that it is not by any means his true 
name, but one given, as we shall frequently have occa- 



194 SPUN- YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

siou to give tliem, during the remainder of our pages. 
And so, Sloeum Russell, who might with equal pro- 
priety be called Barnabas Ray or Shubael Green, may 
shed his fictitious name as though it were a chrysalis 
and he could burst its bonds and return to his proper 
name and station, whenever a titting opportunity pre- 
sented. Sloeum was a hard, grasping, avaricious man 
and a bachelor. For man.y years he had followed the 
seas, having made many successful voyages as Cap- 
tain, and was now possessed of considerable property, 
tliough no one would .judge so from his appearance. 
No one who made one voyage with Sloeum Russell 
could ever be induced to make another, except it were 
a case of dire necessity ; and at a bargain, it was for 
the interest of all with whom he dealt, to look sharp 
on every side, or Sloeum would be sure to overreach 
them. It was as though all the depravity, which might 
have been distributed throughout the whole com- 
munity, without any sensible eifeet, was condensed 
and concentrated in one single package, and that pack- 
ag'e was Sloeum Russell, who nourished it and encour- 
aged it, until it bore fruit an hundred fold. As Solo- 
mon Pinkham, John Gardner, Lonker, and Peter 
Coffin sat there, discussing the qualities, good and bad, 
of Sloeum Russell, the missing sheep were discovered 
at a distance, coming directly towards the enclosure, 
probably attracted by the familiar voices within, per- 
haps by the bleating of their lambs, which were 
already within the enclosure. Opening the gate, they 
allowed them to enter, and then drove them into the 
small pen in which the remainder of his sheep were 
confined, being fully convinced, on closer examina- 



THE SHEARING FESTIVAL. 195 

tiou, that it was his owu property, and that his mark 
on one of them had been -tampered with, though, as he 
had no positive proof, he determined to let the affair 
rest for the time being, and keep a stricter watch in 
future. 

And now, returning to Wesco, we will again look 
in upon Eunice Pinkham. Wesco was the name given 
to the centre and lower portions of the town, in fact, 
what those who live near the outskirts of the town now 
call "down street.'" was at that time called AVesco. 
Eunice Pinkham then lived at Wesco, and, as we look 
in upon her a second time, we find her in the act of 
shovelling the hot ashes on the baking pan cover, 
which had just been heated in the fire-place and placed 
upon the baking pan, which contains the famous 
chicken-pie she is preparing for the morrow's festiW- 
ties. The girls, Lydia and Judith, are each occupied 
with the household work; Lydia has just finished 
sweeping and has hung the beach-grass broom in its 
place, behind the stairway door, and is now making 
preparations to scrub the kitchen floor, while Judith, 
some years younger, is in the act of contemplating a 
loaf of white bread, which she has made and baked 
with her own hands, without any assistance whatever. 
Tristram Pinkham, their brother, now a stout, sturdy 
boy, is busy at the wood-pile in the back yard, sawing 
the wood into convenient lengths for the fire-place, 
though some of them, we are told, were capable of 
holding a cord, more or less, of wood the usual length, 
and still room enough left for the family. Be that as 
it may, Tristram was sawing their wood into good 
honest lengths, working with industry, as all boys will. 



1% SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

wlieu called upon to saw wood, especially if there is 
a good time coming on the- morrow. Tristram had 
worked industriously that morning, at any rate, as his 
tJiin cotton clotliing could testify, as the perspiration 
oozed out of every nook and corner, while he sat on the 
top of the wood-pile, i)retending it was the deck of an 
''outward bounder," which he hoped soon to occupy 
in good earnest, when, as he was looking towards the 
fence, without seeing anything in particular, he 
caught a glimpse of the top of a woman's bonnet, a 
black l)onnet, too, made after the style prevalent 
among the Quakers; and Tristram knew that l)onnet 
in a second. 80 without a uioment's delay, he jumped 
from the w()od-i)ile, and dnrted into the house with the 
exclamation, "'Here comes aunt De])l)y Wutli; I see 
her black bombazine calash, just going along the top 
of the fence!" Now. if there was any (Uie woman in 
the town, who was universally disliked, that woman 
was Deborah Worth ; and of her, we will say as we said 
of Slocum Russell, that her name was just as likely 
to be i\Iehitable Wyer, or Jedida Jenkins, as it was 
to l)e Deborah Worth, and not at all likely to be either; 
and, therefore, if any of my readers should discover 
tliat Deborah Worth has actually lived upon the Isl- 
and, at any time since its settlement, they may set it 
down as a certain fact, that it was not the Deborah 
Worth whose black bonnet Tristram Pinkham saw, 
moving along the top of the fence, on that busy day, 
immediately preceding the shearing to which we have 
referred. At the intelligence imparted by Tristram, 
the faces of ihe girls, as Avell as the boy, began to 
visibly lengthen, for shearing would certainly be 



THE SHEARING FESTIVAL. 197 

spoiled with aunt Del)b,y Wortli hanging round, and 
could they have followed their own inelinations. would 
have plainly told aunt Debby that it M'as not conven- 
ient to accommodate her, at that particular time. But 
they well knew their mother Eunice would be guilty 
of no such breach of hospitality, and so they swallowed 
down the bunch which would rise in their throats, as 
they thought of the coming shearing, with aunt Debby 
Worth to give it a relish. 

Deborah Worth was a spinster, and a very disagree- 
able one at that. 8he was also a member of the 
Friends' Society — a birthright member. Now, aunt 
Debby was only a Quaker by name and speech. Not 
one in all the congregation that assembled in that old 
Friends' meeting-house but would have felt an im- 
mense relief if aunt Deb^^y had declared her solemn 
intention of going, over to the Presbyterians: some 
even thought she belonged there, just as some of the 
Presl)yterians thought that aunt Debby was exactly 
at home in Quaker meeting, while it was the opinion of 
others that it would be better if she did not attend 
any meeting at all, or at least the meeting would be 
better witiiout her, and it all amounted to the same, 
in some minds. However, there was aunt Debby, a 
birthright member, and what was worse yet, Sloeum 
Russell was a birthright member also, spite of his 
moral depravity ; and the best that could be done, 
under the circumstances, was to tolerate them both, in 
the hope that the example of others should lead one 
or both of them to a consciousness of the inconsist- 
encies of which they were constantly guilty. And 
while, as a sort of excuse for the long faces of Lydia 



!98 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

and Judith Pinkhain, we have been picking tiaws in 
the eharacter of Deborah Worth, she has found her 
■way through the gate and around to the back door 
of the house : and to the delight of Tristram, Avho 
declares he has more trotting around to do for aunt 
Debby in one day than he does for the whole family 
in a mouth ; to his delight, then, he learned that aunt 
Debby had only stopped in to rest, — the girls thought 
it was to see what tliey were cooking for shearing — 
she having come from the neighborhood of the Mill 
Hills, with the intention of spending shearing week 
with Dorcas Coleman, who lived up North Shore, and 
had no more right to her name than Deborah Worth 
had to hers, except from one point of view. Dorcas 
Coleman, as we shall call her, was a widow, with seven 
children, five hoys and two girls. Her husband had 
been lost at sea, and she was left alone with her family, 
not in a state of destitution, for Dorcas was comfort- 
ably situated ; yes, even more than comfortably, for in 
addition to a good, round sum, which Shubael, her 
husband, had accumulated by the united economy 
and industry of both, they owned a well furnished 
liouse, with a considerable tract of land 
adjoining, which Avas kept in good order by her 
two eldest sons, Tristram and Jethro, they having 
settled down in life as farmers, while their younger 
brother, Peltiah, had just sailed on a two years' 
cmise on the Brazil Banks. Dorcas, as we call her, 
and with good reason, too, was a mild, quiet sort of 
a woman, never so happy as when emploj^ed in some 
kind office for a neighbor, always ready to watch 
by the bedside of the sick, giving freely of her time 



THE SHEARING FESTIVAL. 199 

and means, to aid the sutferings of others, in what- 
ever form it might be ; and so it was no great won- 
der that Deborah Worth found her way from Mill 
Hills to North Shore so often, for she never returned 
to her home empty hande<i. Deborah was poor ; she 
owned a house near the Mills Hills, it is true, but it 
was a large, old-fashioned house, sadly out of repair, 
which liad descended to her from her grandfather, 
and in which she at this time resided. Her livelihood 
was picked up in various ways; she earned a trifle 
by sewing or quilting, sometimes even went out to 
washing, but the greater part of her subsistence was 
gained by visiting round amongst her old acquaint- 
ances, sometimes for a day and sometimes for a week. 
never omitting in any one instance, unless it was 
Avhen she visited Dorcas Coleman, to take her pail 
or basket, to carry home whatever she could beg for 
her next breakfast or dinner. The only reason she 
never took either basket or pail, when visiting Dor- 
cas Coleman, was this, the boys were always so glad 
to see her setting her face homeward, that at the 
least intimation from aunt Debby, that she must 
begin to think about getting home— she usually 
staid a full week, sometimes two, — it was no sooner 
expressed than Jethro started off for the barn, and 
soon re-appeared at the door with the horse and 
cart, and a few vegetables throAvn in as a decoy, for 
fear aunt Debby might change her mind and con- 
clude to stop till night. When fairly seated in the 
splint-bottom chair, at the front end of the cart, 
Jethro and Tristram would pile in the ballast at the 
other end; this consisted of the different kinds of 



200 SPUN- YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

vegetables generally raised on a farm, with a good- 
sized piece of pork or beef in a large basket, while 
Deborah, herself, sat in state, up forward, with a 
bag in one hand, containing a few piggins of flour, 
while the other carefully held a basket of new 
laid eggs, which Dorcas had handed her, as she was 
on the point of starting. This was a sample of the 
setting out which was bestowed on aunt Debby, 
when the notion seized her, as it frequently did, to 
go up and hel]) Dorcas Coleman for a week or so, 
though where the help came in, it puzzled the girls. 
Jemima and Betsey, and even aunt Doretis herself, 
to tell. To all the eliildren. far and near, wherever 
she visited, she was a source of trouble and vexation, 
from the time she drew the latch, and entered the 
door, to the time she drew it again, to take her de- 
parture ; nothing escaped her notice, even the piece 
of blue ribbon Avhich Jemima Coleman had smuggled 
round her neck, and which Dorcas, her mother, had 
quietly winked at. though she was a Quaker, even 
that little innocent piece of ribbon had furnished a 
text for a in it Debby. from which she preached a 
sermon, ten days long, on the last visit, only the 
month preceding; the only reason the sermon had 
not ])eeu spun out through the eleventli day was 
that aunt Debby returned home, on the afternoon of 
the tenth. To the boys. Tristram. Jethro. Peltiah. 
Zephaniah and Shubael. she had been a bugbear 
from their earliest recollection, and Peltiah 's chief 
cause of rejoicing, when he shipped in the good sloop 
Mary, had been at the thought of escaping the fiery 
tongue of aunt Debbv Worth. Tt is not to be won- 



THE SHEARING FESTIVAL. 201 

dered at, therefore, that Tristram Piukham should 
have nearly turned a somersault over the wood-pile, 
after stopping at the kitchen door long enough to 
remai'k. "There she goes with her old bombazine 
calash, })iiiting to lu'ard." It was a habit Tristram 
had. of calling everything a calash, from the snuff- 
colored satin Quaker lionnet of old cousin Polly 
Macy, which she had worn for fifty years, and was 
still in as good condition as when she first wore it, 
a young woman of thirty, to the new Boston-built 
bonnet of his cousin. Deborah Pinkham. who "took 
after*' her grandmother. ^Mary Pinkham. and liked 
to live as Boston folks lived. 

Tristram returned to his wood sawing, and Lydia 
and Judith returned to their duties; but not many 
minutes elapsed befoi'e Tristram Avas again l)ounding 
into the kitchen, with the announcement that cousin 
Judy Coffin, from Tuckernuck. Avas coming along the 
fence with Liddy. This time the rejoicing was uni- 
versal; for cousin Judy from Tuckernuck was a 
great favorite amongst the townsfolks. and though 
she had but one eye. Avas of more account with the 
other, than aunt Debby Worth Avould have been with 
a dozen. 

After the usual salutations, the Avork all the Avhile 
progressing, aunt Judy proceeded to roll up her 
sleeves, and diving doAvn into the capacious tliree- 
cornered pocket, tied round her Avaist by a tape 
string of her oavu AveaA'ing. she produced an apron 
of ample proportions, Avhich she tied aroujid oA-er 
the pocket, and thus equipped for business, began 
busying herself about the kitchen. Avith as much ease 



202 SPUN.YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

and confidence, as though in her own premises on 
Tuckerniick. 

And now we must hasten out to the shear-pens, 
where we left Solomon, John and Peter, sitting on. 
the fence, discussing Slocum Russell. But Peter had 
observed that he could n't afford to sit all day, talk- 
ing about Slocum Russell, and in com])any witli John, 
had started off towards Long Hill, Avhere Peter was 
expecting to find his large flock of sheep. Solomon 
had remained at the shearing ground for a social 
hour or two with the neighbors, and also to wait 
for Peter Coffin, who was to accompany him home 
to dinner. It was getting well along towards .noon, 
when Slocum Russell, who was one of the sheep 
owners, exclaimed, in his aggravating manner, 
"Here comes Peter Coffin, with his flock of sheep, 
headed by old black Pompe.y. almost as black as 
Peter, himself!" "Well, well. Slocum." says old 
uncle Ebenezer Gardner, "old Pompey is n't the 
blackest sheep on the shearing ground." But Slo- 
cum did not stop to make reply, for not caring just 
at present to encounter either Peter Coffin or John 
Gardner, he walked off in an opposite direction, to- 
wards town. 

The sheep being safely enclosed, were left in pos- 
session of the premises, while Peter. John and Solo- 
mon turned their faces homeward, where they ar- 
rived just in season to partake of the boiled dinner, 
which Eunice Pinkham. with Judith's assistance, 
had been preparing for them, and while they are 
eating and entertaining each other with little inci- 
dents which have occuiTed since they last met, we 



THE SHEARING FESTIVAL. 203 

will pay a visit to Dorcas Colemau, North Shore, 
who is to have the houor of aunt Debby Worth's 
company, for the coming week. Aunt Debby, when 
she left the house of Solomon Pinkham. walked 
leisurely along, for she was not given to hurrying 
in any one respect, except to repeat a visit ; looking 
over the fences, into the houseyards. as she pursued 
her way, that nothing might escape her sight, noAv 
stopping a moment to talk with cousin ^lerab Gard- 
ner, who was just baking her shearing l)uns, and 
wished aunt Debby would come into the house, or 
continue on her way, and now stopping to inquire 
of cousin Prissy Folger. if there Avere any new pub- 
lishments, until, finally, she drew near the premises 
of cousin Dorcas Coleman, when she was espied by 
the older boys, who despatched Zephaniah over to 
the house, to l)ear the intelligence to Jemima and 
Betsey. Betsey, who was half way to the milk-room, 
with a large dish of freshly cooked doughnuts, 
dropped the dish upon the floor, which Jemima had 
just "scrubbed." scattering the greasy doughnuts, 
every one of which left a mark as well as took one; 
and at the same time aunt Debby was seen from the 
^^^ndow. stepping along as Jemima said, as though 
she had her life before her. and expected to spend it 
at their house. "Well," said Betsey, "perhaps she 
Avill only stop over shearing." "No." says Zeph- 
aniah. "she's come to stay a week at any rate: don't 
you see that great wadget, sticking out from under 
that old bombazine shawl?" Strange that men and 
boys should call everything bombazine, that goes to 
make up the female attire. "Well," interposed Je- 



204 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

mima, "may be she will spend part of the week over 
to cousin Lifey Folger's." "Oh, no," returned the 
shrewd Zephaniah. "she always goes to cousin Lifey 's 
the first half, and then comes here, so she can ride 
home, and carry a lot of fixins." "Oh, no," con- 
tinued he. "I'll warrant thee, she's come to stay with 
us, till she takes a notion to go back home again." 
And Zephaniah Avas right; aunt Debby had come to 
stay a while. As to cousin Dorcas, she was as busy 
as the rest of her townswomen. and either did not 
hear, or pretended not to hear the conversation be- 
tween her children, and when aunt Debby came into 
the east door, just as Zephaniah was vanishing 
through the west door, cousin Dorcas was ready in 
her quiet, hospitable Avay. to welcome her, though, 
truth to tell, cousin Dorcas could have dispensed 
with her company as easily as the girls could. What- 
ever hopes Jemima and Betsey may have indulged, 
in regard to aunt Debby spending a portion of the 
week at Eliphalet Folger's. were speedily dispelled 
by a remark of aunt Debby 's, made just before 
dinner, that she must go over that very afternoon, 
and see cousin Lifey and cousin Rachel, "for," said 
she. "I've heern tell that cousin Rachel had the 
rheumatiz." Jemima very Avell knew that it was not 
so nuich to see either cousin Lifey or cousin Rachel, 
as it was to vent her natural ill humor on their 
daughter Rhoda. who was a special object of dislike 
to aunt Debby. on account of what she was pleased 
to call "her forward tongue, just like her father." 
aunt Debby always added. 

We will here take occasion to remark, that Elipha- 



THE SHEARING FESTIVAL. 203 

let Folger is now flourishing under a borrowed name, 
and henceforth, nearly all who are mentioned, whose 
I)edigree is not traced from one or another of the 
early inluibitants, nearly all such. are. to use a 
familiar expression, "sailing under false colors," 
their names having been changed; some but slightly 
and in part, while others are changed entirely from 
the original, but all being descendants of the first 
Tristram, including even Sloeum Russell and aunt 
Debby Worth. Deborah Worth, as all well knew, 
Avho knew anything of her earlier years, once had 
great ex])ectations in regard to Eliphalet Folger, but 
to do him justice, we will add. that he had never, in 
the slightest manner, given her occasion for any such 
expectations, having from childhood shoAvn a decid- 
ed partiality for his cousin, Rachel Wyer, who was 
now his wife; and Avhen. in a fit of ill temper, she 
had complained to the "slack men," because Eph- 
raim Starbuck had accidentally trodden on her 
gown, and he had barely escaped the whipping-post, 
in conserjuence of her misrepresentations. Eliphalet 's 
dislike was changed to contempt, and he never let 
slip an opportunity to put in a word of remembrance, 
Avhen she attempted to reprove the younger folks 
for their follies. Nevertheless, aunt Debby never 
neglected calling, when she was visiting at Dorcas 
Coleman's, sometimes spending several days under 
Eliphalet 's roof. There Avas one person, and only 
one. in all that little community, who escaped aunt 
Debby 's raillery and reproof. Jethro Coleman had, 
as yet, never been called to account for his misdeeds, 
or deeds of any kind, nor had he in any way, ex- 



206 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

perieneed the lashings of her cutting tongue as aimed 
at himself. Why it was so, do one could say, for 
Jethro "vvas always ready with some joke at aunt 
Debby's expense, and his dislike exceeded even the 
dislike of Tristram Pinkham. if such a thing were 
possible, but in the eyes of aunt Debb.y, everything 
that Jethro Coleman did was sure to be right. 

Far from following the example of Judith Coffin, 
Tuckernuek. and assisting in the general house- 
work, aunt Debby quietly seated herself in the easy- 
chair, and with her feet resting upon the "cricket," 
which with the freedom of a privileged guest she 
took from the little closet beside the fire-place, where 
Jemima had just placed it. while she scrubbed the 
floor, she deliberately took her knitting from her 
pocket, tied on by a string like aunt Judy Coffin's, 
Tuckernuek, and having adjusted her heart-shaped 
knitting-sheath, made of the end of a whale's tooth, 
and Avhieh had been used by her mother and grand- 
mother and all her great grandmothers, away back 
in the past to Dionis Coffin, wife of Tristram, for 
aught aunt Debby knew; having finished all the 
preliminaries, she conuuenced taking up the stitches 
in her stocking, every now and then glancing up 
over her glasses at Jemjma and Betsey, looking, as 
they afterwards told Zephaniah, like a rattlesnake 
about to jump. There she sat. by the fire-place, 
though it was the twenty-first of June. Click! 
click! click! rattled her knitting-needles, and the 
girls well knew she had something on her mind, 
which would burst like a clap of thunder on some-] 
bodv's devoted head, and the longer her wrath Avasl 



THE SHEARING FESTIVAL. 207 

bottled u]). the luvivier it wuuld fall when it di'.l 
come 

Dinner was read.x' in dnf. season, and mt sooner 
were they seated at the table, than aunt Debby 
opened her l)atteries. ai)j)arent]y direetiny her con- 
versation to eonsin Dorcas, but looking at Jemium 
all the while with that Hxed glare in her eye. Arhich 
Jemima returned with compound- intei-est. though, 
for her mother's sake, she held her peace, and did 
not venture a reply. "Did thee see Obadiah Pad- 
dack last tirst-day. with his gaudy trappings? But 
thee must have, cousin Dorcas, for thee sat right a 
fronting him. and the vanity and vexation of speerit 
that shone out of them 'ere brass buttons when the 
sun struck on 'em. was enough to make cousin 
Barnabas Paddack groan in speerit. to think that a 
son of his'n should have come to sich a pass. What 
did thee think on't. cousin Dorcas?" Ah! thought 
Jemima, that's why aunt Debby is in su<h a hurry 
to go over and see how cousin Rachel Folger's 
rheumatiz is getting along. It's Rhody she Avants 
to see. just as I thought ; for it was currently re- 
ported round amongst the young folks that Obadiah 
Paddack had a hanlcering after Rhody Folger. 
Cousin Dorcas did not answei- her question imme- 
diately, for she was thinking of the time when her 
boy. Peltiah. went out gunning with Obadiah Pad- 
dack. and broke through the ice, and Obadiah bore 
him home in his arms, all cold and wet and uncon- 
scious: and how Obadiah had run for assistance, and 
helped restore him to consciousness; and how he had 
watched by his bedside, during the long fever which 



208 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

folloAved, wheu all the rest of the family were ex- 
hausted by their long watching; and now, Peltiali 
was a strong, healthy boy, away out on the Brazil 
Banks, instead of l)eing in his grave on the hillside, 
or iji the de])ths of the l)lne sea. where he would 
have ])een had it not been for the timely and kind- 
hearted assistance of Obadiah Paddack. who had 
since been on a voyage to Liveri)(>ol. and had just 
returned in the Polly. So all the reply cousin Dorcas 
ma<le, was, "Obadiah Avas always a tender-hearted 
boy. and I've heerd say that cousin 'Riah Brown 
was going to make a third mate of him next voyage, 
and Ave all knoAV cousin 'Riah BroAvn Avouldn't do 
that, if he Avasn't a smart, likely hand; yes. Oba- 
diah 's a good boy. Inittons or no buttons." Now, 
this Avas rather a lengthy speech for cousin Dorcas, 
Avlio usually made no connnents on anything aunt 
Debby might say. for she kneAV there Avas no end to 
aunt Debby 's tongue, as long as she could find any- 
body to ansAver her. Finding she could get no sym- 
pathy in that quarter, though she knew that before 
she commenced, she remained silent during the re- 
mainder of the dinner, only occasionally A^enturing 
a remark, such as, "Thee's got a considerable too 
much sal'ratus in these doughnuts, Jemima. I s'pose 
thee made 'em?" "No, I didn't," says Jemima; 
"Betsey made 'em," at the same time turning the 
plate round, so that the doughnuts Avhich had been 
in such close proximity to the Avet Hoor. and had 
all been purposely piled up on one side, should 
present a fair and solid front to aunt Debby, for 
Jemima had resolved that aunt Debbv should eat 




o 



THE SHEARING FESTIVAL. 209 

every one of those doughnuts she had been the un- 
conscious means of flavoring. 

Dinner was no sooner over than aunt Debby. with 
scarce a recollection of the help she had come to 
bestow on cousin Dorcas, took down her black 
bonnet from the shelf in the closet, and set out on 
her way across lots to cousin Lifey Folger's. But 
Jemima Coleman was too much for her; for Zeph- 
aniah, having hastily swallowed his dinner, and with 
a promise from Jemima that he should have his 
pocketful of those doughniits that had taken such 
a sudden flight towards the floor, was sent on, in 
advance, to cousin Lifey 's, with a most pressing in- 
vitation to Rhoda to come over and spend the after- 
noon, and "mind" says Zephaniah, "and go round 
by cousin 'Siah Coffin's, round the back of the 
house, or thee '11 meet aunt Debby Wuth on the full 
trot, coming to preach about Obadiah's brass but- 
tons; say Rhody, I think they looked like the Major's 
war fixins, and when I come home from Liverpool. I 
mean to have some just like 'em; got eagles on 'em 
haven't they?" For Zephaniah, instead of spending 
the time in holy meditation, at first-day meeting, had 
spent the whole three hours, in studying Obadiah's 
buttons, which had proved such a scandal to many 
besides aunt Debby. 

Having delivered his message, Zephaniah started 
on his return, running round the west side of uncle 
Nat. Paddack's house, (the house which the first 
John Gardner and the first Peter Coffin had built for 
Jethro and Mary, over fifty years before) then, 
across into New Lane, Rhoda not far behind him. 



210 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

hiiiTyiiig aloug" to reach the shelter of cousin Josiah 
Coffin's house, lest the eagle eyes of aunt Uebby 
should espy them and understand the piece of 
strategy which had been brought to bear upon her. 

Zephaniah. with Rhoda at his heels, was soon out 
of range of aunt Debby's vision; for, coming out 
round the north-west corner of the JMajor's house, 
they could see aunt Debby striding along rather 
faster than usual, making a bee line for Rachel 
Folger's. where she would spend two-thirds of the 
afternoon, tearing the coat off Oliadiah's shoulders, 
buttons and all, and the other third, in recommend- 
ing ox-gall salve for the rheumatism, which she 
would make and send over for thripence or such a 
matter. Once under the cover of Dorcas Coleman's 
roof, they were secure from aunt Debby. for that 
afternoon at least, for the kitchen windows com- 
manded a view of the path across lots, as well as the 
road, and there Avas no possibility of aunt Debby 
returning to the house. Avithout being seen, and 
besides, the boys were all on the alert, ready to give 
the warning in the distance, by swinging their 
broad-brimmed straw hats, as soon as she appeared 
in view. 

Then again, cousin Lifey Folger w^as at home, and 
he and aunt Debby were ahvays sure to have a 
set-to. as Eliphalet called it, meaning by that, a war 
of pretty strong words, in which. Lifey always came 
off victorious, for he did not scruple to remind her 
of the narrow escape Ephraim Starbuck — since car- 
ried down by a line — had of the Avhipping post, in 
their earlier days, and this Avas a subject aunt Debby 



THE SHEARING FESTIVAL. 2 1 1 

never careil to bring before the minds of the young 
people. 

It took her but m short time to reach the house of 
Eliphalet and Rachel, and great was her disappoint- 
ment, when on incpiiring for Rhoda, she was told by 
Jonathan. Rhoda 's younger brother, that she had 
gone out to spend the afternoon. Not all the cross- 
questioning that aunt Debby could call to her aid 
availed anything with Jonathan Folger, and having 
indirectly put her upon the wrong track, he 
shouldered his rake, and Avent over to stack up the 
hay in the adjoining lot. Without going into the 
particulars of aunt Debby 's conversation with 
cousin Lifey and cousin Rachel, it will be sufficient 
to mention, that upon her return to Dorcas Cole- 
man's there was not the slightest sign to indicate 
that Rhoda had been Avithin ten miles of the house, 
though, at. the moment of aunt Debby 's entrance, 
she was sitting upon the back door-step of cousin 
Judith Coffin's (Avife of Josiah, 2d) house, Avhile 
Josiah and James, small boys of about ten and five, 
or thereabouts, Avere reporting aunt Debby's 
progress, in tones rather louder than Avere absolutely 
necessary, so anxious Avere they to please Rhoda 
Folger. who Avas a favorite with all the children 
from Capaum to Wesco. Aunt Debby having van- 
ished from vieM% Rhoda pursued her Avay toAvards 
home, taking almost the exact course Avhich Mary, 
Avife of Jethro Coffin, took, Avhen she Avalked 
leisurely through the Avoods, from her father's, on 
that afternoon so many long years before. And 
where noAv Avas Mary? As Zephaniah and Rhoda 



212 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

passed around the back side of the house of Major 
Josiah Coffin, in the early part of the afternoon, and 
stopped a moment at the door to make a few re- 
marks on the coming shearing, there was sitting in 
the large easy-ehair under the window, an aged 
Avoman, who called to them in a pleasant voice, to 
enter. This woman was Mary Coffin, widow of 
Jethro, now about ninety years of age, still active, 
though somewhat bowed in figure. This was Mary, 
daughter of John Gardner, 1st. who lived when a 
child, hardly a stone's throw from her present 
home, with her son. Major Josiah, whose wife, 
Elizabeth, had died some ten years previous. The 
^lajor had been absent nearly all day, at the shear- 
ing ground, for he owned a large flock of sheep, and 
was a man of no little consequence in the com- 
munity. Besides being quite extensively engaged 
in farming, he was also concerned in the shipping 
and whale fishery, to a considerable extent. His 
sou, Josiah, 2d, (who married Judith Coffin, great- 
granddaughter of John Coffin, Vineyard, and great, 
great-granddaughter of Tristram, and who OAvned 
and occupied the house in New Lane, adjoining his 
father's property,) was now at sea in one of his 
father's ships. Rhoda Folger continued on her 
course, past cousin Nat. Paddack's, and on down 
the hill to her own home, where she was entertained 
by her sisters and brothers with a rehearsal of aunt 
Debby's conversation, and her vexation when she 
found Rhoda was likely to be absent the whole 
afternoon. 

The shades of evening drew near, and at an early 



THE SHEARING FESTIVAL. 2 1 3 

hour, all retired to rest, for they must be up in 
season on the morrow. Just twenty minutes oi: 
three, by the old clock in the corner of Major 
Josiah's east room, when he descended the stairs, 
and taking his hat from the nail which had been 
appropriated to it, ever since he had occupied the 
house, he stepped out into the yard, where his first 
business was to feed his horse, that he might be iu 
readiness for an early start. But early as Josiah 
Coffin was, Solomon Pinkham, John Gardner and 
Peter Coffin were before him. for when he arrived 
at the ground, he found they had already made a 
beginning, in company with about a dozen others, 
who having a great number of sheep to attend to, 
thought it best to connnence as soon as it was light 
enough to do so, and take their leisure at the other 
end of the day. 

Rapidly the company increased. dro})piug along by 
twos and threes, some in carts, some on foot, and 
amongst the rest, came Slocum Russell, who though 
an object of universal dislike, was never idle when 
there was a penny to be turned, and, though he ex- 
pected to finish his own flock before midday, there 
was a chance that some of the neighbors might hire 
him to assist them; though there were usually 
enough on hand, at sheep washing, to render all the 
assistance that might be needed, not only free of 
all charge, but glad of the opportunity to repay the 
little accommodations they M-ere constantly receiv- 
ing from each other — accommodations which none 
were more eager to accept than Slocum Russell, who 
was never known to perform the most trifling 



214 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

service for any one without presenting a bill for 
services rendered, his charges being so exorbitant, 
that no one would ever employ him a second time, 
without an explicit understanding. By seven o'clock, 
the business of washing had commenced in earnest. 
Down under the waters of the old Washing Pond, 
the sheep were dipped and re-dipped, rubbed and 
scoured, until they were returned to their separate 
pens, their tieeces white as snow, all the accumula- 
tions of the year having found a resting place at the 
bottom of the pond, where they remained in undis- 
turbed possession until the return of the day. when 
the same process was repeated, and another layer 
added to the last. By nine o'clock, Slocum Russell 
had washed about half of his flock, having l)een as- 
sisted by one and another of the young men who 
had lately returned from sea, and had eonu^ out to 
the sheep-washing, from force of habit, some of them 
assisting their own relatives, and others, having no 
particular interest in the business, other than their 
OAvn enjoyment. 

Barnabas Paddack, having a smaller flock of 
sheep than many, and several grown sons to .assist 
him. had finished his washing early in the day, and 
had now offered his assistance to Tristram and 
Jethro Coleman, who. though scarcely beyond boy- 
hood, were the owners of a large flock of sheep, as 
carefully managed and cared for as any to he found 
upon the Island. Obadiah, seeing that Slocum had 
no regular assistant, had thrown off his coat, not the 
one with the buttons, however, and rolling up his 
shirt-sleeves, had plunged into the old Washing 



THE SHEARING FESTIVAL. 215 

Pond, by the side of Slocum, and in a few minutes 
was busy as the busiest, exchanging a word now and 
then with Peter Coffin, his right hand neighbor, and 
again stopping for a moment to make reply to some 
question of uncle Ebenezer, who was at his left 
hand. They had just dipped "old long neck," for 
their sheep were nearly all named, either from their 
color or from some other striking peculiarity, and 
were preparing for a second dipping, when the 
animal made a sudden plunge, and bounded full 
against Slocum, Avho was not prepared for any such 
demonstration, throwing him backwards at full 
length, under the waters of the old Washing Pond. 
It did not take long for him to scramble out again, 
for Slocum was an old salt, and was not to be driven 
from his post by a little cold water, salt or fresh, 
but it was too good an opportunity for Peter Coffin 
to lose, so with a loud laugh, which was seconded 
by Obadiah. he ventured the remark, ''Well, well, 
uncle Slocum, even old Pompey couldn't beat that, 
black as he is." But Slocum did not wait to answer 
him; shaking the water from his dripping clothing, 
he ran up the bank, and after "long neck," who 
would have led him a chase as long as his neck, had 
not Tristram Pinkham and Zephaniah Coleman 
stopped its progress, and headed it u]) towards a 
corner of the fence, where, wet and frightened, it 
was easily caught by Sloeum, who carried it bjick 
to the pond to finish the business of washing. 

It was now drawing along towards dinner time, 
and new comers were constantly- added to the spec- 
tators who stood upon the bank", watdiing the sheep 



216 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

as they darted from corner to corner of their pens, 
to elude the grasp of the owner, or carried by main 
strength, were deposited in the water where hun- 
dreds of others were already undergoing the process 
of washing, as a sort of preparation for the shearing 
which was to take place on the morrow. Among the 
spectators Avere the wives and sisters of the sheep 
owners, some of whom had walked out to the pond, 
while others rode out in their two-wheeled carts, 
bringing with them the dinners of those of their 
families who were too busily employed to spare the 
time to come to town. Among the latter, were 
Eunice, wife of Solomon Pinkham, and Judith, wife 
of Peter Coffin, with little Lydia Coffin, and Judith 
and Lydia Pinkham. daughters of Solomon. Cousin 
Judith Coffin had '"tackled" the horse into the cart, 
for she had often performed the feat on Tuckernuck. 
and was as skillful at the business as Peter, her 
husband, though there was scarce a woman among 
the towns-people who could not accomplish the 
same work readily, when occasion required. 

All around the enclosure, sails were spread upon 
the ground, to receive the fleeces M'hich would be 
cut off on the morrow; and overhead, spread across 
from one post to another, were also sails to shade the 
shearers at their tasks, as well as to furnish a cool 
retreat while eating. Those who had neither brought 
their dinners, nor had them sent out. could always 
be supplied at the tents which Avere to be seen scat- 
tered over the ground, at little distances apart, and 
presided over by those who were anxious to combine 
business with pleasure, often by some poor Avidow 



THE SHEARING FESTIVAL. 217 

with a family of children, who depended upon her 
profits at shearing time, to supply her family with 
little necessaries of life. Here were always to be 
found meat cooked in various ways, warm vege- 
tables, cakes, pies, preserves, puddings, tea, eotfee 
or beer; and many of those who were supplied with 
eatables from their own homes, would often resort to 
these tents, to spend a triHe on the famous cakes or 
pies of cousin Sally Hunker or aunt Xabby Star- 
buck, or some other worthy old aunt or cousin, who 
was dependent upon her own exertions for a liveli- 
hood, and Avho could not, like aunt Debby Worth, go 
amongst her acquaintances to spend the day and 
carry a pail to get her next day's breakfast. 

Tristram and Jethro Coleman, with their younger 
brothers. Zephaniah and Shubael, had left their 
washing just before noon, and returned home to 
dinner, intending to leave the horse for their mother 
and sisters to ride out in the afternoon. Accord- 
ingly, having eaten their dinnei's. and seen their 
mother. Doreas. installed as driver. -I ■;iiima and 
Betsey stowed down in the l^ottom of the cart, and 
aunt Debby. Avho was tall and of ample dimensions, 
perched up Avell in front, as a figure-head: having 
seen them all safely disposed of. the boys started 
ahead on foot, now and then looking around to see 
if old La Fayette, as they called the old white liorse. 
was faithfully discharging his duties, for aunt Debby 
had a habit of calling out. "ga-dap, there,'' in a 
loud and commanding voice, even when La Fayette 
w^as doing his best, and probably supposing that 
it meant something, and not knowino- Avhat. thought 



218 SPUN- YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

the best thing to do was to reverse operations and 
eome to a dead stop, when it required all of cousin 
Dorcas's mild authority to start him on again. How- 
ever, they reached the shearing ground in due sea- 
son, and were greeted by one and another of their 
acquaintances, all, however, taking pains to keep 
out of the Avay of aunt Debby. The day passed oi¥ 
pleasantly to all. and as the afternoon advanced, one 
by one they dropped off in the direction of town, 
Peter Coffin and his uncle Josiah, the Major, 
(brother to Peter's father. John, sheriff") being 
among the last on the ground. 

And now, the washing being completed, every- 
thing was placed in readiness for the morrow's 
work; tlie weather still continued clear, and there 
was every prospect of another fine day. As the first 
faint streaks of light were discernible in the east, 
the inhabitants Avere astir, for it was a general holi- 
day with all. from the aged grandmother to the tiny 
infant; and by sunrise the commons were covered 
with vehicles, mostly two- wheeled carts, on their way 
to shearing. 

There was uncle Ebenezer Gardner, now past his 
three score and ten, (his wife Eunice had died some 
years previous,) with his second wife, Judith Coffin 
(daughter of John and Hope, and granddaughter of 
James,) and tlieir little granddaughter. Eunice 
G-ardner. four years old. daughter of Uriah and 
Ruth. It Avould be a matter of some difficulty to 
decide which was receiving the gi'cater enjoyment, 
uncle Ebenezer, as he stood toAvering above aunt 
Judith, with the reins i)i liand. shoutinsr to old black 



THE SHEARING FESTIVAL. 2 19 

Juba to trot along a little faster, or little Eunice 
Gardner, as she stood in the corner in front of her 
grandfather, both hands grasping the forebuck for 
fear she should pitch forward under the horse's 
heels. 

Just in advance of uncle Ebenezer. Avas John Cof- 
fin, sheriff, father of Peter Coffin, Tuckernuck, with 
Lydia, his wife, in a low-seated, fiddle-back chair, 
for Lydia was getting advanced in years, being about 
seventy-three, some seven years older than John, her 
husband, and could not ride to shearing standing 
"bolt upright" in the cart by the side of her hus- 
band, and keeping herself in position, by holding the 
stout rope tied along the top of the side, as she had 
been wont to do in her younger days. Some dis- 
tance in the rear, was cousin Lifey Folger, with his 
two boj^s. Jonathan and Nathaniel, who would return 
to town, during the forenoon, for their mother and 
sisters, as well as the shearing victuals, which it had 
taken the best part of two days to prepare. Cousin 
Lifey could always be recognized by his old mouse- 
colored horse, which had a habit of jumping along 
on three legs, with his nose almost touching the 
ground, exactly like uncle Slocum Russell, the boys 
used to say, when their father was beyond their hear- 
ing. Following on after cousin Lifey, as far as the 
eye could see, they Avere still coming; the Starbucks, 
the Pinkhams, the Bunkers and ]\Iacys ; not one 
would miss the shearing, and along the road from 
North Shore, Tristram and Jethro Coleman were 
coming with La Fayette, and the boys, Zephaniah 
and Shubael. fitting at tlie back end of the cart, their 



220 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

feet hanging down behind wliile Josiah the ^Nlajor, 
was coming at a brisk trot, with his little grand- 
children, Josiah and James and Judith ; the two boys, 
like Zephaniah and Shubael, sitting with their feet 
hanging out at the back, a favorite posture it ap- 
peared to be amongst the children. Not far behind 
the Major was John Gardner, 4th, who had married 
the Major's daughter Mary, with their children, 
Mary, thirteen, Nabby, nine, and little Prissy, named 
for her grandmother, Priscilla Gardner, (daughter of 
Jethro and Mary) who, in addition to being the 
mother of John Gardner, 4th, was sister also to the 
Major, and therefore great aunt as Avell as grand- 
mother to little Prissy, who on account of being 
rather diminutive in stature, was called, for dis- 
tinction, Prissy Tip, a name which was extended to 
her father, John Gardner, 4th, as well. Little Prissy 
and her sisters. Mary and Nabby, were also great, 
great, great-grandchildren of the first Tristram, as 
well as John, Lydia, Tristram and Judith Pinkham 
and James, Judith and Josiah Coffin, children of 
Josiah, Jr. 

Besides the above mentioned, were two other 
little great, great, great-grandchildren, who have 
come under our notice ; these are, first, little Lydia 
Coffin, daughter of Peter Coffin. Tuckernuck; the 
other is the little Eunice Gardner, daughter of Uriah 
and Ruth, and granddaughter of Ebeuezer and 
Eunice; this same little Eunice whom we left on the 
commons half way to shearing, clinging to the fore- 
buck, was a great, great, great-granddaughter of 
Tristram, in a triple degree, and was destined in 



THE SHEARING FESTIVAL. 221 

after years, to become still more closely united. And 
as they, by this time, must all be well along on the 
road, we will hurry on and overtake them, just as 
Jonathan and Nathaniel Folger. havinsr deposited 
cousin Lifey, their father, start on their return trip 
after their mother and sister, and victuals, added 
Jonathan, while Zephaniah Coleman followed closely 
in the track, on a similar mission, except as Zeph- 
aniah called to Jonathan, as he was about to turn 
off upon the North Shore road, he should have aunt 
Debby to pepper him, all the way back again. Hav- 
ing relieved his mind a trifle, b,y this little sarcasm 
at aunt Debbj^'s expense, he touched La Fayette 
lightly with the whip, and shouted to him almost as 
fiercely as aunt Debby would have done, b^- way of 
giving vent to his impatience, before he should reach 
his home. for. heartily as he despised aunt Dobby, 
he could not help feeling the force of his mother's 
example, and had many times curbed the hasty 
word for his mother's sake, when unjustly accused 
or found fault with by aunt Debby Worth, who he 
consoled himself by thinking was not his aunt in any 
way. shape or manner, but only a very distant 
cousin, after all. But, with the thought that upon 
reaching the shearing ground, his share in the re- 
sponsibility would be finished, his good nature re- 
turned, and by the time he reached the Major's 
corner, he was singing at the top of his voice : 

' ' ' There she blows ! ' is the cry, from our masthead, 
And it is a pleasant sound; 

There's a large sperm whale off our lee beam, 

And to wind'ard she is bound, my boys, 
And to wind'ard she is bound." 



222 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

The Wedding. 
The time had now drawn near when "Trustum" 
Pinkham and Lydia Coffin were to be united in 
marriage. Grreat preparations were going on at the 
house of Solomon Pinkham; "Mother Judy" had 
eome doAvn from Tnekernnck. and with her, two 
little daughters, who had been added to the family, 
Betsey, aged six. and Snsy, aged three ; and Peter, 
her husband, was back and forth from Tuckernuck 
to Solomon Pinkham 's, according as his services 
were required. Huge loaves of plum-cake were 
stored away in the closet, brought down from 
Tuckernuck by "Mother Judy," while the silver 
which had descended to Lydia 's own mother, (Susy 
Bunker) for several generations, had been carefully 
kept by Mother Judith, and Avas now to pass into 
the possession of Lydia. There were the silver 
spoons, in sets of various sizes, marked with the 
names of the difiPerent owners, as they had descended 
from one generation to another; there was the silver 
pepper-box, which had belonged to Lydia 's great- 
grandparents, Ebenezer Coffin and Eleanor Barnard, 
marked upon the bottom with the initials E. C. E. ; 
and there were dishes which had been brought from 
Liverpool, feather beds and quilts of "Injy calico," 
with linen sheets and table-cloths of Lydia 's own 
weaving, for Peter Coffin raised a considerable quan- 



THE WEDDING. 223 

tity of flax every year, and -JiKlith had taken great 
pride in Lydia's skill and intlustry at the loom and 
spinning-wheel: and there tiid not seem to be much 
danger that her family would suffer for the need of 
clothing, as aunt Debby had predicted; but then, no 
one thought of attaching any importance to anything 
that aunt Debby said. 

The day of the marriage arrived, and early in the 
afternoon the guests began to assemble. There was 
Kezia, sister of Peter, with her hu.sband. John Gard- 
ner. Lonker, and their three boys. IMicajah, Ama/iah, 
and Antipas, who always answered Avhen spoken to, 
because they knew their own names, although aunt 
Debby had said when Antipas was named, that she 
couldn't see anything Christian about his name, for 
she never heern tell on but one Antipas in her life, 
and if he was a Christian, she hoped Antipas Gar'ner 
wouldn't be a Christian in anything but his lunne. 
But, to return to the wedding. There was also John 
Pinkham, brother of Tristram, wnth his wife Susan, 
and their little daughter Sukie; and there Avere 
Lydia and Judith, sisters of Tristram, and John 
Gardner, 4th. who married Peter Coffin's cousin 
Mary, the Major's daughter, with their little daugh- 
ter, Prissy, called Prissy Tip. on account of her 
diminutive size, and also her older sister' Nabby, w^ho 
married Eben Fitch, and there was James Coffin, son 
of Josiah, Jr., and his sister, Judy, w^ho married 
Thomas Brock, and there were Nathaniel Barrett 
and Eunice Gardner, daughter of 'Squire Grafton ; 
and Eunice Gardner, daughter of Uriah, and grand- 
daughter of Ebenezer Gardner, with a half dozen 



224 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

utlier Eunice Gardners, whom we have not the space 
to describe; and there was the whole crew of the 
"pizen Industry," Avho had stolen their chowder, 
and tliere were aunts and uncles and cousins to the 
uttei-niost degree of relationship; the Pinkhanis and 
the Starbucks, the .Macys and the Paddacks, all 
congregated at the house of Solomon Pinkham, to 
witness the marriage of Tristram Pinkham and 
Lydia, daughter of Peter CofRn, Tuckernuck. The 
ceremony performed, the cake and wine were 
brought forth, the cake in slices an inch in thickness, 
plentifully supplied with plums, which were de- 
spatched by the elder portion of the guests in good 
season, after which, they nearly all retired to their 
homes, leaving the young folks in possession, to 
enjoy themselves for a while longer. Among all the 
children present at the Avedding, there was not one 
who could compare in beauty with little Betsey 
Coffin, six years of age, half sister to Lydia, the 
bride. With the dark hair and eyes peculiar to the 
Coffin family, she united the clear complexion of the 
Pinkhams, her mother, Judith, being a daughter of 
Peleg Pinkham, son of Richard. The evening 
advanced and the time came for the guests to dis- 
perse, and the house was finally left in the possession 
of its inmates, with the addition of the family of 
Peter Coffin, who were to remain till the following 
Aveek, when Tristram and Lydia were to commence 
house-keeping. In the north part of the town, a 
little to the north of Gull Island, there was standing 
a few years since, an old-fashioned double house, 
which had been moved from what was called '"up in 



THE WEDDING. 225 

town," the east half being owned and occupied by 
uncle Woodbury, where aunt Debby pulled up the 
"sparemint" by the roots. The west half of this 
house was the home of Tristram Pinkliam and his 
wife Lydia. 



226 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 



CHAPTER XV. 

The Outfitting. 

Christopher Mitchell sat iu his office, busy with his 
papers and accounts, when suddenly there came a 
tremendous knock at the door; it could not have 
been louder or more imperative, had the ship Lima 
arrived, with twenty-five hundred sperm, and blub- 
ber on deck, and the messenger at the door waiting 
to convey the intelligence. Christopher Mitchell was 
a quiet, dignified young man, belonging to the 
Society of Friends. He was a large ship-owner, one 
of the solid men of his day, respected by all the com- 
munity. Wondering what could be the occasion of 
so startling a summons, he arose and opened the 
door, and there upon the steps stood a lad. who. the 
moment the door was opened, exclaimed, "Does Kit 
Mitchell live here?" Looking at the boy. from 
head to foot, he answered his question with, "What 
is thy name?" "Jack Fitch," said the boy. un- 
abashed by the presence of the great ship-owner. 
"What is thy mother's name?" "Nab Fitch." 
"What is thy father's name?" "Feb Fitch." 
"Yes," said the gentlemanly Christopher, thinking 
it useless to remonstrate with tlie subject before 
him, "Kit Mitchell lives here." And Jack delivered 
his errand, and departed, unconscious that he had 
delivered his message in any different manner than 
his father had comniandcd. when lie said to liim. 



THE OUTFITTING. 227 

*'Now. Jack, mind and .speak as you'd orter." Sueli 
was Jack Fitch as a boy, what John Fitch would be- 
come as a man. remained to be proved. 

As there Avas quite a number of whaling vessels 
about to take their departure, fun and frolic were 
the order of the day. and there was not an evening 
that did not witness a gathering at one or another 
of their homes for a candy frolic or chowder com- 
pany, or a dance, or some other amusement, Avhieh 
was ever remembered by the participants and re- 
lated again and again, to their children and grand- 
children. 

While all was bustle and life at the wharves, and 
the numerous sail-lofts, cooper's shops and rope- 
walks, there was no less business going on at the 
homes of those Avho were about to encounter the 
dangers of the deep. There were piles of homespun, 
which Avere to be con\'erted into clothing, for their 
fathers, brothers and husbands ; there Avere hand- 
kerchiefs to hem. and thin cotton clothing to be 
made. Avhile the younger daughters. Avith needle in 
hand, and a sampler spread out on the table before 
them. Avere busy at Avork stitching in cross stitch, 
the letters, H. P. or J. F.. or some other combination 
of letters, for eA'erything must be marked, from the 
lining of the souVester, to the tin pan with the 
name scratched on the bottom Avith a darning needle, 
or point of a knife; AAdiile the happy possessor, Avith 
one of his horn-handled jack-knives, cut his initials 
in elegant style, upon the handles of the others. 
When the last edge of the last bandanna handker- 
chief had been hemmed, and the finishing touches 



228 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

given to the markiug, the process of packing com- 
menced. Overalls, duck trousers, reefers, short 
jackets, waistcoats, "galluses," stockings, brogans, 
quilts, calico pillow-cases, tarpaulins, sou '"westers, 
mittens, handkerchiefs (which were only used for 
show, on liberty days,) pot and pan, knives, iron 
spoons and a variety of miscellaneous articles were 
carefully arranged, by mothers, wives and sisters, 
while each separate article was re-adjusted by the 
owner, (especially if it happened to be his first 
voyage) as often as he entered the house, after the 
packing commenced. When all was completed, and 
the last article arranged to the satisfaction of all, 
the little drawer under the till, (supposed to be a 
secret arrangement, but in all probability, nine 
tenths of the chests in the vessel, contained one ex- 
actly like it.) was opened, and a few Spanish dollars 
tucked in, for trading on the South American coast, 
and lastly, the "protection" enclosed in its tin or 
iron case, was slipped in, with the earnest injunction, 
to take special care of that, though everytliing else 
should be lost ; for woe betide the American seaman 
who should be caught upon the high seas, by a 
British man-of-war, without his protection, which 
described Andrew Gardner as "a citizen of the 
United States of America, with blue eyes, light hair 
and complexion, slender frame, five feet eight inches 
in height, with a large scar upon the right arm," or 
Daniel or Nathan Myrick, with "dark eyes and 
hair, and complexion to match, thick-set frame, 
measuring five feet, six and one-half inches, age 
seventeen, with scar upon the left cheek." caused 



THE OUTFITTING. 229 

by falling over into the fire-place, in the little eliair 
in which he was tied when a baby of eleven months. 
All who were without such papers, proving them as 
citizens of the United States, were eagerly claimed 
by the English cruisers, as subjects of Great Britain, 
and forced into the English service, for a specified 
term of years, or for life. 

The vessel in Avhich Hezekiali was to embark on 
his first voyage, lay at the Bar. ready for sea. and 
at two o'clock in the afternoon, he. with his father, 
Tristram, arrived on board, and soon, with colors 
flying, and canvas spread, they directed their coarse 
round Great Point, and were lost in the distance, 
Thus did Hezekiah, on the fifteenth day of Novem- 
ber, 1786, celebrate his fourteenth birthday, by 
commencing a seafaring life, which he followed 
year after year, rising rapidly from foremast hand 
to assistant officer, and from officer to Captain. 



230 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 



CHAPTER XVI. 

A Skilled Pilot— A Business-like Proposal— In War 
Time— The Leaders. 



A SKILLED PILOT. 

The months sped on. and fifteen had rolled their 
course, when the' Industry again dropped her anchor 
at the Bar, and Silas Chase was once more at home 
with a full cargo. It required several days of brisk 
work to lighten her, which being accomplished, Tris- 
tram Pinkham's services as pilot were again re(juired 
to bring her in safety to the wharf. Tristram had 
for some years been engaged in piloting the ships, 
as they sailed from the wharf to the bar or to Old- 
town, there to remain until loaded for a voyage. 
Tristram was considered one of the best pilots of 
his day, and was as well acquainted with the navi- 
gation of the waters in the vicinity of his native 
Island, as he was with the streets of the town. So 
familiar was he with this locality that by tasting the 
sand upon the bottom of the lead, he could describe 
the situation of the vessel without assistance from 
any other source. Upon one occasion, some of the 
crew carried with them a box of sand taken from 
the vicinity of their home. Dropping the lead into 
the ocean, and then dipping it in the box of sand, 



A SKILLED PILOT- A BUSINESS-LIKE PROPOSAL. 23 1 

they carried it to Tristram, who was lying in his 
berth. Placing his tongue upon the sand, he ex- 
claimed, without a moment's hesitation, 

* ' Nantucket 's sunk, and here we are, 
Eight over old ma'am Hackett's garden." 

This put an end to experiments in that direction, 
and Tristram's authority Avas ever after unques- 
tioned. 



A BUSINESS-LIKE PROPOSAL. 

Jedidah Carr, a widow, living in Pearl street, was 
sitting at her window picking up stitches in her 
knitting work, Avhen she saw John Gardner drive 
slowly along, apparently as though on his way to 
mill, but. if so, he had <^ertainly chosen a most 
circuitous route ; but what was her sui"prise, when 
she saw John stop his horse, and. jumping from the 
cart, deliberately walk round to the kitchen door. 
"Merciful sakes!" exclaimed aunt Didy, to herself, 
"what can uncle John Tip want here at this time of 
day?" But she was not long left in suspense, for 
John Gardner, 4th, did not believe in wasting words. 
Opening the door, and with oiie foot on the 
threshold, and his hand upon the lat(^h. he com- 
menced: "Aunt Didy. I'm going along to mill with 
this ^ 'ere grist, and I thought I'd stop and see if 
you'd have me. I shall be back in twenty minutes 
or so, and then I'll stop and get your answer;" say- 
ing this, he closed the door and drove off t<» mill. 
"Well," thought- aunt Jedidah, "that's pretty short 



232 SPUN- YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

notice; howsumdever, a man like John Tip isn't to 
be picked up every day, and I guess I'll have him;" 
and so, when he returned from mill, his answer was 
all ready, and it was agreed that John Gardner, 
sheriff, and Jedidah Carr. should spend their re- 
maining years as man and wife. Aunt Brock, (she 
who was once Judith Pinkham,) was sitting very 
much as Jedidah Carr was sitting when John 
Gardner called on his way to mill, only, instead of 
picking up stitches, she was letting them do\vn, when 
her door opened and in walked, not John Gardner, 
but aunt Didy Carr. "Judy," says aunt Didy, 
"I've concluded to have a little company this after- 
noon, and I want you and Liddy Pinkham to come 
over and get supper with me;" having thus deliv- 
ered her .message, she departed for home. After 
finishing her dinner, and before the clock struck one. 
aunt Brock and Lydia were on the road to Pearl 
street, to spend the afternoon with aunt Didy. 
Several of their acqnaintances came in during the 
afternoon, and as tea-time drew near, who slionld 
open the door and step in but John Gardner. 4th; 
quite an unexpected event, tlionght aunt Brock, and 
comparing notes afterwards, she found the rest of 
the company thought the same. "Well." said aunt 
Didy, "you've happened in just in the nick of time, 
for I'm jnst a going to set the table, and so you may 
as well stop and get a cup of tea." John apparently, 
needed no second bidding; the snpper proceeded, 
and John remained. At about eight o'clock the 
door again opened, and this time, to the surprise 'of 
all. with the exception of John and" Didy. it was the 



A BUSINESS- LIKE PROPOSAL— INf WAR TIME. 233 

justice who entered, and before aunt Broek and the 
remainder of the guests were scarcely aware of what 
was going on. John Gardner and Jedidah Carr had 
been made one for life; and here they were, at this 
date, comfortably settled in John's house at North 
Shore. 



IN WAR TIME. 



Troubles between the United tStates and England 
again arose, and while many of the wlialing vessels 
were still at sea, war was declared, and all the 
anxieties of the war of the eighteenth century Avere 
lived over again, in the nineteenth. Of the sons of 
Tristram Pinkham, only John and Hezekiah re- 
mained. John was noAV at home, upon the eve of 
marriage with ^lerab Bunker, one of the descend- 
ants of William and ^lary. The banns were already 
published, when war was declared, but that did not 
in the least interfere with the marriage, Avhich oc- 
curred a few weeks later. Hezekiah an(( Jack Fitch 
were both away at sea; Hezekiah was captain of the 
Alliance, once commanded by Amaziah Gardner, 
while Jack Fitch occupied a like position in the 
Mars. But Jack Fitch was Jack no longer, in his 
own estimation, as his private log-book would testify. 
John Fitch, with a full appreciation of what his 
dignity should be. as master of a large whaling ship, 
had scribbled on every spare leaf of his log-book, in 
large, distinct letters, "John Gardner Fitch, Capt..'.' 
for in the days of his infancy, there were many 
mothers who were of the same mind as Kezia when 



234 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

she named ^licajah, Amaziah and Antipas, and who 
fnlly agreed with Kezia, that Jonathan, Hotwater, 
John, Lonker, and John Tip, would be much im- 
proved by a middle name, which should distinguish 
Hotwater Jonathan from Coldwater Jonathan, and 
so, Nabby Fitch being of the same opinion, had 
named her boy John Gardner Fitch ; but it is doubt- 
ful whether John had any idea in his boyhood that 
his name was other than plain John Fitch. Although 
he now^ stretched his owm name to the utmost ca- 
pacity, he was not willing to allow Hezekiah a like 
importance, for on the very next page to ''John 
Gardner Fitch. Captain." if not in a conspicuous 
place on the same page, would be found the follow- 
ing entry: "Oct. 20th. Saw old Pink, and he was 
in a hurry to go home and see the gals." 

And now they were both upon the ocean, and war 
was declared. Again the English cruisers were 
upon the seas, not only in the vicinity of the Avhaling 
ports, but far out upon the track of the vessels 
which were yet some distance from home. And now, 
came news of the capture of the Blount Hope, 
Captain David Cottle; the first of a long list of 
vessels which afterwards fell into the hands of the 
English. Then followed the Alligator. Captain 
Owen Swain, full of sperm oil: the Ranger. Captain 
William Joy. and amongst others. Avho were robbed 
upon the high seas, of all thcii- liard earnings, was 
another of the great, great, great, great-grand- 
children of Tristi'am Coffin, who bore one of the old 
family names, which had been handed down, since 
the settlement of the Tslaiul. 



THE LEADERS. 235 

THE LEADERS. 

Let us hope and trust, that the memory of all 
those who lived and worked together in ages long 
since past, shall ever be held in remembrance by 
their descendants, and while all the early pioneers 
are entitled to the grateful remembrance of pos- 
terity, foremost in the rank of benefactors, stand 
the families of Edward Starbuck, Thomas Macy, 
Peter Folger, with Tristram Coffin, his children and 
his grandchildren. 



236 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 



CHAPTER XVII. 

The First Tea Party {An Idyl from Nantucket). 



THE FIRST TEA PARTY. 

"Starbuck Plantation/ Nantucket, 
September 20, 1745. 
"My own dear Mother: 

It seems a long time since you and my honoured 
father and my ever dear brothers and sisters started 
for your new home ; but I suppose you have not yet 
reached your destination, and I think of you cA^ery 
day aud all day long as marching and marching, 
following the lonely trail tlirough the forests, and 
sometimes I am tempted to repine in that my father 
thought it best to remove to that far-aAvay settle- 
ment. But my grandfather tells me that the enter- 
taining of this sentiment would be unworthy the 
daughter of a pioneer, and since it was thought best 
for me to remain on the island for a season. I must 
improve my time to the best advantage ; and this I 
try to do Avith cheerfulness, and Aunt Content is so 
kind as to say that I am of serA'ice to her in our 
household duties and in spinning and AveaA'ing. 

Peradventure. my letter shall be a puzzle to you, 
so I hasten to say that I indite a paragraph or two 
upon leisure, and AAdienever anything comes into ray 
mind I desire you to knoAV I straightAvay go to my 



THE FIRST TEA PARTY. 237 

uncle's desk aud set it down. I do this, dear 
mother, that you may share in my pleasant thoughts, 
and may know of my daily life ; also that my broth- 
ers and sisters may in a measure partake of my en- 
joyment. 

The principal neAvs I have to tell is that my cousin, 
Nathaniel Starbuck. Jr., has returned to Boston from 
his late long voyage to China, aud is now hourly 
looked for here, where there are divers preparations 
being made for his welcoming. My grandfather 
walks restlessly up and down with his stout stick, 
peering anxiously up the roadway by which our 
traveller must come. Uncle Nathaniel says, with 
pride, 'The boy will have many stories to tell' Aunt 
Content flits about with a smile on her face, and 
anon with tears in her eyes, concocting the dishes of 
which her son used to be so fond; while dear old 
grandmother knits and knits, because she says, 
'Than 'el never yet wore any stockings but of my 
make, and I must have a supply for him to take on 
his next voyage ; ' while I am to have a new blue 
gown made from my aunt's last web, which is the 
finest and softest piece of flannel ever made on the 
island. 

My cousin has come. He is tall and lithe, with 
handsome hair and eyes, and his complexion is 
bronzed by the ocean winds and eastern suns. He 
says it seems to him like a fairy tale that I am the 
same little dumpling of a cousin he used to toss in 
the air when he was last home. He is much grieved 
to find you are all gone, and is planning a hunting 
expedition, whose objective point shall be your far- 
away settlement. 



238 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

The neighbors all congregated around our kitchen 
lire to hear his wonderful stories and adventures, 
which he was relating all day long and far into the 
night ; and for all he has travelled almost over the 
whole world, he is as pleased as a boy to be at home 
on the dear old Nantucket plantation again. We 
are all as happy as we can be with our divided 
hearts, and all have a frequent thought and wish for 
our wanderers, while grandafther remembers you 
each morning and evening at the Throne of Grace. 

My cousin has brought a great many curiosities 
and presents for us all. One is a silken creamy 
shawl for me. woven and embroidered Avith beautiful 
flowers. Another is a gown of foamy Canton crape, 
as white as snow, and they are so pretty I am sure 
I shall never dare to wear them. Grandma says 
they shall be kept for my wedding. Aunt Esther 
says it is not seemly for such thoughts to be put into 
a maiden's head, but Aunt Content gave me the other 
day a whole piece of linen from the Fall bleach to 
be kept, she said, for a day of need. 

At all events, my finery is packed away in gums 
and spices in a foreign box. and is not likely to turn 
any silly maiden's head at present. 

Cousin has returned to Boston, and yesterday he 
sent by a trusty messenger another sea-chest. It is 
a large box of tea, the first that was ever seen on 
the island, real Chinese, which Nat himself procured 
in China. It is of a greenish color, Avith little 
shrivelled leaves, and when eaten dry has a pleasant, 
spicy taste. Perhaps when I send this letter T can 
inclose some, that von mav see what it is like. He 



THE FIRST TEA PARTY. 239 

also sent a h'tter Sfiyiug tiuit when he returns to 
Nantucket, the owner of the ship in whieli he 
voyaged. Captain IMorris. will eonie with him from 
Boston to pay us a visit. 

We are again making- master preparations for 
visitors; and if you will believe it. the great parlour, 
which has not been used since Aunt Mehitable's 
wedding, is to be opened. The tloor has been newly 
w^axed and polished, and we have spread down here 
and there beautiful mats w^hich Cousin Xat brought, 
with many curious and handsome things which are 
hung on the walls and spread on the table and 
mantelpiece; and the huge fire of logs the sharp 
w'eather now renders needful in the chimne\', sends 
out such a glow that you can have no conception 
how finely the room appears. I was admiring it this 
morning, when Aunt Estlier rebuked me gravely, 
saying. 'The bright things of this world are of short 
duration;' but dear, gentle grandma said, with a 
smile, that it was natural and right for the young 
to admire beauty, at which Aunt Esther seemed 
much displeased. I sometimes think she does not 
like me because I am young, but that cannot be. Yet 
I cannot quite understand how, being my own sweet 
mother's sister, she can be so unlike her. 

We have just had tidings that Cousin Xat and his 
friend Captain ]\Iorris intend to arrive here on De- 
cember 31st. Uncle Nathaniel says he will have a 
tea-party, and invite Lieutenant ^lacey's family, 
and Uncle Edward Starbuck's family, and a few 
others, to meet our guests, and to 'sit the old year 
out and the new vear in.' 



240 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

We cooked a beautiful dinner, and our guests all 
came. I wore my new blue gown, with some lace 
grandma gave me in the neck, and my own dear 
mother's gohl necklace. 1 tied back my curls, that 
Cousin Nat will not allow me to braid, with a blue 
ribbon which he bought in London. Aunt Esther 
said men dislike to see girls look so brave, but 
grandpa kissed me and called me 'a bonnie blue- 
bell.' 

Aunt Content has been much pestered in her mind 
because she knew not how to serve the tea or to 
cook it, and after our neighbours were assembled she 
confided to them her perplexity. They all gathered 
round the chest, smelling and tasting the fragrant 
herb. Mrs. IMacey said she had heard it ought to be 
well cooked to make it palatable ; Aunt Edward 
Starbuck said a lady in Boston who had drunk tea 
told her it needed a good quantity for a steeping, 
which was the reason it was so expensive, so Aunt 
Content hung the bright five-gallon bell-metal kettle 
on the crane, and putting a two-quart bowlful of tea 
in it, with plenty of water, swung it over the fire, 
and Aunt Esther stayed in the kitchen to keep it 
boiling. 

While I was laying the table I heard Lydia Ann 
Macey say, 'I have heard that when tea is drank it 
gives a brilliancy to the eyes and a youthful fresh- 
ness to the complexion. I am afraid thy sister-in- 
law failed to put in enough of the leaves.' So Aunt 
Esther put in another bowlful. When the tea had 
boiled an hour, my cousin and Captain ^Morris ar- 
rived. Then the tea, which had boiled down to 



THE FIRST TEA PARTY. 241 

Jibuiit a gfillon. \v;is poured into gfjiiuliiurs gi'eat 
silver tankard ;ind carried to the table, and each 
guest was provided with one of her silver porringers; 
also with ereain and lumps of sugar. 

The eaptain talked to nie l)ef()re diinier. and J told 
him. before i knew 1 was getting eontldential, how 
yon Avere all otf in the wilds. He said enterprise 
was what the new country needed, and that it was 
not best to have .Xantueket peopled entirely with 
Starbucks. Tliat I was one of the old stoek it was 
plain to l)e seen, he said, if my name was Went- 
worth ; and then he looked pleasantly around the 
eii'cle of the Starbucks. I suj)pose I do not resemble 
them at all. I saw Auid Ksther looking at me so 
shari)ly that I remembered she had often told me it 
was not seemly to talk with men: so ])resentl\' 1 1)e- 
caiiU:' discreetly siU'iit. Hut when (lininn' was an- 
nounced th(^ <-aptain took me out and made me sit by 
him. 

After grandpa had asked a blessing on the food. 
Aunt Content said to her son and his friend. 'I have 
made a dish of tea for you. but am fearful it is not 
rightly made, and Avould like to have yotir opinion;' 
whereupon my cousin and the eaptain looked and 
sniffed at the tea. and my cousin made answer. 'As 
my loved mother desires my opinion. I must needs 
tell her that a spoonfid of this lieverage. which she 
hath with such hos])itab]e intent prepared for us, 
would g(» nigh to kill any one at this table.' and the 
eaptain said laughingly, that my aunt conld keep 
the deeoetion to dye the woollens. He further said 
he would instruct us how to draw the tea. 'and this 



242 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET 

young lady," lie said, tuniing' to me. 'shall make tht 
first dish of tea ever made on Nantucket.' So the 
tea was made by his direction and poured into the 
tankard Aunt Content had got ready, and the cap- 
tain carried it to the table for me and helped to pour 
it into the porringers for the guests. He was so 
kind also as to say it was the best dish of tea he had 
ever tasted. 

"We had a wholesome dinner, and enjoyable witlial. 
Cousin Nat told stories and sang songs, in which 
Captain Morris joined him. and then the happy new 
year's greetings took the place of the good-bys when 
otir neighbours left for their homes. 

My cousin's friend still stays for the shooting, 
aud there is not much spinning aiul weaving done, 
for it takes so much time for the cooking and the 
eating and the visiting. He is very agreeal)U\ and 
calls grandfather, 'the iMiles Standish of Xantneket. ' 
I heard him tell Uncle Nathaniel that we liad good 
blootl. and ever since he becanu^ acijuaintcd with 
Cousin Nat he had conceived a great admiration for 
the Nathaniel Starbucks; and he said soiiu^tliing 
about a wife. Perhaps he remains htM-e ou Aunt 
Esther's account: but. dear mc. she is so prim (1 
write with all respect, dear mother), and he is such 
a jovial genth'man. 1 (h) not understand how sncli a 
wedding could be liarmonious. It he has a regard 
for her it inust be on account of the Starlmck lilood. 

Oh. my nu»ther. how can 1 tell you! It is not foi- 
love of Aunt Esther that Ca])tain Morris remains, 
but your own little daughter; and all the Starbucl^s. 
saving Aunt Esther — who declares T ought to be put 



THE FIRST TEA PARTY. 243 

back into j)iiuifores — have given their consent that 1 
shall be married and sail away with my husband in 
his ship to foreign jiarts. to see for myself all the 
wonders of Avliieh I have heard so mneh of late. But 
I will not give my consent until I first have that of 
my father and mother; so there is a company being 
matle up to go with Cousin Nat and the caj'tain 
through the snows to your far-away home. 

And so. after all. it Avill be this new friend of 
Avhom I have written so much who will take this 
long letter to you. I am sure, dear mother, that you 
who knoAV my heart so well will not think it un- 
seemly for me to pray that the Lord will guide your 
heart and that of my father to feel kindly toward 
this gentlenuin: for. indeed, he is of good repute, and 
is so kind as to be very fond of me; and if 1 feel that 
I have your consent, and that of my honoured father, 
together with your blessing. I shall be very happy. 
«nd take an honest pride in being his honoured wife. 

The captfiin declares laugliingl\' that I am sending 
him on a (juest like h knight of old. to i)rove his love. 
I cannot help thinking it strange his wanting to 
marry me. and when I said so one day. he replied 
gravely, that it was hII ou account of the tea. which 
got into his head. And. indeed, it may be so. for f 
Avas tiighty, and hardly shut my eyes to sleep at all 
the night after partaking of it; and even my dear 
grandmother says she would not answer for the con- 
se(|uences of what she might be led to do were she 
to make use of it every day. 

I send you. with other articles, some of this famous 
tea. and a bit of the white crape that I shall, if so it 



244 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

seeiiu'lli bt'sl in the jiidgiiient of my lioiioured i'atlier 
and dear juothei'. wear as a, Aveddiiig gown. 

The household all join me in sending loving greet- 
ing to you all and. I remain, noAV and ever. 

Your dutiful and loving daughter, 

Ruth Starbuck Wentworth. " 



YOUTH'S FIRST VOYAGE. 245 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

There She Bloivs! or Whales We Caught. 
YOUTH'S FIRST VOYAGE. 

FROM PECK SLIP TO NANTUCKET P5AK. 

\ ^^ / AXTKI> — •■)()(• alile-ltoilied, eiiteijdising young men, to 
V V jj() (III whaling \oyages (if from twelve to twenty 
months" duration in first class ships. All clothing and other 
necessaries furnisheil on the credit of the voyage. To coopers, 
carpenters and blacksmiths, extra imlucenients t)ffered. ' ' 

This Hunonneement. on ;i gigantii- phicartl. in 
staring capitals, ari'ested my attention, and l)ronght 
nie to a stand, as I was strolling along South Street, 
near Peek Sli]). I had just attained the susceptible 
age of eighteen, and had left iny country home with 
the consent of my parents, to visit the great city of 
Gotham, like a modern Gil Bias, in quest of employ- 
ment and adventures. As the old story-books have 
it. I had come "to seek my fortune." I have sought 
it ever since. l)ut it has kept ahead of me. like an 
ignis faiims. Like old Joe Garboard. I began the 
world with nothing, and have held m\' own ever 
since. 

I had always a i)redilecti()n for the sea. and hatl 
cultivated my adventurous propensities by the study 
of all books of voyages and travels that T had access 
to. All the wanderings of famous navigators, from 
the days of Sinbad down to the present era. had been 



246 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

perused with delight, and I had always affected the 
sailor, as well as I knew how. in manner and dress. 
I had discovered, since I arrived in the city, how- 
ever, that I was a miserable amateur; and not a 
ragged boy along the piers but woidd have spotted 
me for a "green one" at sight, while Jack himself, 
the real article, would have fomul my verdancy 
really refreshing after a long cruise. 

Above the attractive placard to which I have al- 
luded, in the form or a hanging sign projecting over 
th(^ sidewalk, was a most stirring nautical piece, 
illustrating one of those agreeable little episodes 
Avhich diversify the life of the whaleman. The prin- 
cipal iigure in the foreground of this masterpiece of 
art was a huge sea monster, intended, doubtless, to 
represent something "very like a whale," but which, 
in truth, bore rather more resemblance to a magni- 
fied codfish with a specific gravity something less 
than that ot a cork, as he fioated on the water in- 
stead of 'i)i it. Fragments of a devoted whale-boat, 
which had been nearly pulverized by a blow of his 
tail, filled the air. and rained back in showers upon 
the unfortunate leviathan, at the imminent hazard, 
as it seemed, of inflicting serious splinter wounds, 
while several sailors, apparently dressed for the oc- 
casion in span new blue and red shirts, cut 
pirouettes among the wreck at various altitvules be- 
tAveen sky and water, and made spread eagles of 
themselves for the special diversion of a gaping pub- 
lic. Prom the head of the sea monster was ejected' 
a stream of blood, Avhich rose in a solid column to a. 
height but little exceeding that of the topmasts of 



YOUTH'S FIRST VOYAGE. 247 

the ship, whifh appeared staiuliiig under all sail, in 
fearful proximity to the fast l)oats. and having no 
ap|)arent intention of starting taek or sheet to avoid 
a eollision. Hogarth's famous "Perspective" was 
quite eclipsed by this effort. 

I stood, for a time. I'egarding this picture in silent 
admiration, and especially commiserating the situa- 
tion of one luckless mariner, for whom the fate of 
Jonah seemed inevitable, as he appeared suspended 
in midair, directly over the jaws of the whale, which 
were widely distended in his agon\'. 

''Now," said I to myself, "why wouldn't this l)e 
the sort of cruise for me.' A long voyage, full of 
adventure and excitement. The very thing. I'll 
stop in here, aiul get some informati(Mi nbout this 
business. " 

Following the direction of ;i hnnd ])ainted oi! a tin 
sign, the tinger of Avhich. ;is well as the iuscri))tion, 
indicated that Ramsay's shipping office was "u]) 
stairs." T entered a room where a middle-aged gen- 
tleman, with a tiorid countenance, evidently the great 
Ramsay himself, was seated at a desk fenced in b>' 
a railing, while a shabby clerk, who looked as if he 
had been kei)t u]) all night, hovered, like a familiar 
spirit, near his elbow. Two youths, fresh tvom the 
eounti"\- like myself. Avere negotiating for enlistment 
with the elder gentleman. Avho was all smiles and 
affability, and who. nt my entrance. elevate<i his 
eyebrows, and said something, soffo voce, to the 
sleepy clerk, whereat the lattcu- smiled knowingly, 
and then, seeming fatigued l)y the exertion, relapsed 
into his foruu-r apathy. 



248 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

"Take a seat, sir." said ^Mr. Kaiusay. "'I'm happy 
to see you. sir; and the' fact of your beinji: early in 
the day argues well for your success in life. 1 [)re- 
sume you wouhl like to try a pleasant voyage, to 
see the world, and make some money at the same 
time."' 

■'Yes. sir."" said 1: "I did think of trying a sea 
voyage, but J would like to make a few in(iuiries 
iirst." 

"Quite right, sir." said Mr. Ramsay, lighting a 
cigar; "quite riglit. "Look before you leap.' as the 
saying is. Have a cigar, sir?" at the sanu' time ex- 
tending a haiulful of cheap sixes, witli a general in- 
vitation to the company present. "I shall be happy 
to atiford you any information in my po\V( r. su'. I 
have never been whaling myself, but from m_\ long- 
experience in this l)usiness. aiul my extensi\e i\r- 
(pmintance witli whalemen aiul shipowiuM's. [ nuiy 
say that you could hardly have applied, in this city, 
to a better source; and. as I was obser\iiig to these 
two young gentlemen just before you entered. Ihei'e 
is the hnest o|)ening just at this tim.e tluit I have ever 
known. Indeed. I do no1 remember any period since 
1 have been in tin- business when such inducements 
were oft'erecl to enterprising young men as no\\-. .\ 
packet leavt^s this afternoon for .\antucket. and 
there are ci-ews wanted thei'e for foin- new ships, 
just lainiched, and all to be commanded by expen- 
<'nced ca|)taius. 'I'lun-e will be nioi-e ships titled this 
year than any pi'evious one: and. owing to the in- 
creased deinand for young men. the l;iys are uncom- 
monl\' hii;'h. " 



YOUTH'S FIRST VOYAGE. 249 

"The whfit. sir.'"' risked one of the eountry youths. 

"The hi vs. sir; that is to say. the shares, ^'oii will 
iiiuhn'staiid tliat in this hiisiiicss no onr is paid 
AA'ages by the da\' or mouth, but eaeh receives a 
certain part, or la\". as it is eaUed. of the proceeds of- 
the eriiise. By this arrangeiiieiit. yon will see. at 
onee. that ever\' one. from the captain to the eabiii 
boy. has a personal interest in the success of the 
voyage. The lay is. of course. [)roportion('d to his 
rank or stati(»ii on board, and to his experience in 
the business. The lays, as I before observed, are 
high this season, uncommonly so." 

"And what may be the lay of a new hami — one 
whtN has never l)een by water?" 1 asked. 

"Well. sii'. the lays of gre(*n hands have ranged 
in times past, irom a two hundredth to a t\vo 
hundred and fiftieth, but they are paxing now a. 
hundred and sevimtieth. and even as high as a. 
hundred aiul fiftieth. I>y the way, hax'e \oii any 
mechanical trade!'" pursued the shipping-master, 
with the greatest iii'baiiity. 

"Well — yes. sir; 1 have serv(Ml some time at the 
blacksmith's trade, though 1 can hardly call m\'self 
a finished workman." I answered. 

"A l)lacksmith : all, inde(Ml ! The xrvy thing, sir. 
That i-eminds me that 1 have a special demand, at 
this tiim\ for three or four blacksmiths, and as man\' 
carpenters. As to your lieing a finished workman, 
that is not at all essential, sir. if you can botch a 
little and do an iuditferent sort of job. that is ((uite 
sufficient. 1 may safely promise an abie-lxxlied 
young man like you \v\t\i some knowledge of the 



250 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

Miicksiiiitirs tr;i(l(\ as ir(i<)d as the hiiiulred and 
thii-tieth. Tliat. liowever. is a uiattei- to l)f arranged 
with the agent of the ship when yon sign the articles. 
I shall mention the subject to niy con'espondents, 
,31essrs. Brooks & Co.. ai Nantucket, aiul they Avill 
us(^ their inHuenee for you."* 

■"The voyage. \<)u say. A\ill not be nnu'c than 
twenty months, sir.'" I asked. 

'"Ye — no. sir — that is. tlu^y ai'e seldom absent 
Iieyond that length of time. find, if very fortunate, 
you ]uay tinish a voyage in a year. Then your 
chances of i)rom()tion! Consider, sir — a young man 
of your ability ought certainly to ccnnmand a third 
mate's berth on the second voyage, in which case, of 
course, your pay is mor(^ than doubled: and so on 
each successive voyage as you advance still Ingher 
on the ladder. That is. of course, supposing you 
should wish to follow the business. If not. why. a 
year oi- a year and a half is not nnich at \'our time 
of life. You would still be young enough to tuiMi 
>()ur attention to something else.'' 

"Ibtw's the victuals on these whaling lioats.'"' in- 
((uired one of the verdant youths. 

'■p^xcellent. sir." returned the voluble .Mr. Ham- 
say. "T have reason to believe there are no ships on 
the oceaji wliere the living is so good as in whalers. 
Even the luxuric^s of life are to be found in 
abundance. Cows are generally kej)t on board, so 
that the supply of milk and fresh beef scai'cely ever 
fails." 

Here the sleepy clerk knocdced the ashes from his 
cigar, gave another knowing siiiile. aiul distended his 



YOUTH'S FIRST VOYAGE. 251 

cheek uith his tDiigue. in keen cnjoynieiit of tlie 
game. This action was not lost npon nie. antl. inex- 
perieneed tliougli I was, 1 had already begun to sur- 
mise that the statements of his ehxpient employer 
were to lie received cum grauo sal is. Still, making- 
due allowance for exaggeration. 1 thought this sort 
of voyage, from its very nature, full of excitement 
and adventure, would suit me l)ett(M- than any otliei'. 

■"Do you furnish the outfit of elothes here, sir.'" 1 
iu(iuired. 

■'Xo. sir." aiiswiu'ed Mr. Hamsay. ""that is not in 
my line. My correspondents. ^Messrs. Brooks ^: ('o.. 
will attend to that: and. from their ])erfeci knowl- 
edge of the articles re(iuii'ed. and their extensive 
facilities, c.iiniot fail to give you satisfaction." 

The sleepy clerk had the pleasure of registering 
the nanu^s of all three of us on llu^ list of recruits to 
go on board the "Lydia Atni." and at four o'clock 
that afterimon. I found myself, in company w ith a 
score or more of others, on ])oard the old slooj). with 
the mainsail hoisted, and droppetl do\\ n to an out- 
side berth; and. after the most atfedionate fare- 
wells and hand-shaking from ^\r. Ramsay and the 
sleepy clerk, the whole party M-ere mustered and 
counted, and the roll Ixung found correct, the Lydia 
Ann slipped the only fast by which she rode to the 
pier, and Avas fairly under Avay for Xantncket. amid 
the shouts and hurrahs of her passengers, who 
seemed to have bid adieu to all care and soricnv. and 
to consider th<'mselv(\s fairly enrolled in thi^ I'anks 
of the elect. 

After taking our last looks at the great metrojiolis. 



252 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

J foiijid ample anuiscment in stiul>iiig" liiuiiau nature, 
and observing the peenliarities of my several com- 
panions. Avlio were a motley crowd, composed of men 
of every stamp, from the fresh and innocent country 
youth, like myself, who had just left his mother and 
sisters, to the city rowdy, who had run himself "hard 
up" on a spree, and. unable longer to raise the wind, 
had ship])ed for a sea voyage as a last resort. !t was 
surprising to note, now that we were brought to- 
gether, and all bound on the same mission, how 
(piickly we became accpuiintcd with each other, and 
how (juickly all distinctions were levelled. Ahiny of 
my companions were nu)re ov less in licjuor at start- 
ing, and some had brought suspicious bottles with 
them, aiul now were clustered in groni)s al)out tlu^ 
deck, roaring snatches of songs, breaking out into 
l)oisterous merriment, and ci-acking jokes on the old 
skip[)er. who only shoo]\: his head, and joined in the 
laugh, nuittering: 

■'Hold on. m>- lads, till 1 get you out otf I'itd -ludN'. 
with a good stiff l)reeze and chopping sea cm to shalv' 
up your stonuu'hs. and I'll bet some of \'ou will laugli 
out of th(^ other side of your mouths." 

The old gentlenuui was not at all averse to takin!;" 
a slout |)ull at ttu' bottles with those who offered 
tlieui: ;ind. after two or thi'ce a|)plications of thi-; 
soi't. lu' grew conununicative. and vctluuteered nnicji 
information foi- our special behoof, touching I he 
business in which we wei'c about eiid)arking. \tai!y 
of his statements differed widely from those of the 
ship|)ing-nuist('r, wliich is not strange; for it is well 



YOUTH'S FIRST VOYAGE. 253 

kiiuwjj tluit two witnesses Mi'e seldom t'ouiid to Mgi'ce 
on their accounts of the same matter. 

The Lydia Ann was nn old time-worn ;iml battereil 
sloop, which ran as a regular transport l)etwe"n 
Nantueket and New York, having no accommoda- 
tions tor any consitlei-able nund)er of ])asseiiger8, 
though she had cai'i-ied so many human cargoes to 
the same consignees, all hound on the same errand, 
that she had ac(iuired the pet name of "the Sla\er. "" 

AVhen night came on. we were constrained to find 
l(Mlgings in the hold as best we could: and. selecting 
the softest spots and most eligible corners among the 
casks and boxes which composed the freight list, avc 
passed part of the night in much the same inainier 
as before. But. as the skip]iei- had i)re(licted. the 
breeze freshened during the night, and the old sloop, 
feeling the benetit of it. and diving smartly into .1 
head sea. furnished the majority of us employmi^it 
in easting up our accounts, and admonished us tl'at 
all bodies, not excepting the solid earth, are subject 
to ni)heavings when shaken to their centres. Soui.' 
of us. Avho had crawled on deck to get the fi-esh air. 
furnished, by our own rueful and woe-l)egon(^ aiJ- 
jiearance. rare food for merriment to the old niafe. 
a veteran of nearly the same date as his comman lev. 
who, in a rough pea-jacket and slouched sou 'wester, 
stood. statue-lik(\ liraccnl up against the tiller, ap- 
pai'ently as innnovable as the nn-k of ages. 

'"Ah. boys." said the joll.\' old salt, "so the Liddy 
Ann is bi-eaking you in. eh! Well, you've got to go 
through it. all of ye. and it's better to have it over 
now. when you'vt^ got no duty to attend to. than to 



254 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

begin it in tlie Gulf strccun. when there'll be. iuayl)e, 
topsails to reef, aiul a slatting Jil) to be got in on a 
slippery boom." 

lie advised ns. moreover, to try the ex[)eriment of 
attaching a piece of fat pork, previonsly dipped in 
molasses, to a string, swallowing the precious morsel 
and pulling it up again, repeating the operation as 
often as the symptoms returned, which mode of 
proceeding, he solemnly assured us. had been proved 
to be an invaluable specific in cases of this kind, as 
could be attested by the experience of thousands of 
sufferers. The victims were sIoav to avail themselves 
of this information, not so much from any doubt of 
its efiticacy. as from sheer inability to make the 
necessary exertion to prepare the nu^dicine. 

The utter prostration of all energy which attends 
sea-sickness is well known to those wlu) have passed 
the ordeal. I Avas a sufferer with the rest. ])ul not 
to the same extent as nuiny others. When daylight 
broke. 1 Avas on deck, and stirring, and became ac- 
customed to the Lydia Ann's antics Avith so little 
ilifficulty that the old skipjier m)ticed me ]iarticiUar!y ; 
and finding 1 Avas the ord\' oiu^ Avho eonld do full 
justice to an "able-bodied l)reakfast." he (•oiii])li- 
mented me l)y averring his belief that 1 Avould he 
a sailor yet before my mother Avoiild. AVhich 
prophecy seemed in a fair Avay of fulfilment; for 1 
gained so rapidly that befoi'e the slooj) Avent in over 
Nantucket Bar. I Avas able to take an interest in all 
I saAV and even to lend a hand abont deeks. I was 
rather A'ain of the comparatively easy victory A\hic]i 
my stonuich had gained over old Xei)tune's medi- 



YOUTHS FIRST VOYAGE. 255 

cine chest, ami lost no opt)(»i'tiinity of ci-ackini;- jokes 
upon others, whose course of initiation had ix^en 
more severe. Some of the boys who came over in 
the Lydia Ann AviU never forget the martyrdom 
they endured from this intolerable inaladx'. which. 
Avhen violent, makes even life and death seem a. 
matter of indifference, and not the least irritating 
jjeculiarity of Avhich is that it is a standing sul).iect 
for joking by those who have ])assed through it. and 
that even the very pity which the initiated traveller 
bestows upon us is akin to ridicule. 



256 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 



CHAPTER XIX. 

There She Blows! or Whales We Caught. 



OVER THE BAR. 

Two whalcships were lying at anehor outside the 
^"liar" as tlie Lydia Ami ])assed in — one lately ar- 
rived from a long voyage, her rusty si<les and rough 
hends nearly naked of copper, with the long grass 
clinging to the bare sheathing; her stnnip topmasts 
and general half-dismantled appearinice ])resenting' 
a striking contrast to the trim. newly-i)ainte(l out- 
ward-l)ounder. which Inid just C(mi])Jeted her 
pi'ei)arations for sea. and. witli everything aloft in 
its jjlace. mainroyal yard crossed, and a full quota 
of showy. wliite-l)ottomed boats, on the cranes and 
ovei'liead. was to weigh anchor for the Pacific next 
morning. Loud rose the cheerful, measured sound 
of the hoisting song from the gang on board tln^ 
inward-bound ship, as the heavy casks of oil were 
seen to rise slowly from her hatchway, and were 
discharged into the schooner lashed alongside of her 
to recMMve them, while another lighter, deeply loaded, 
had dropped astern, and was hoisting her mainsail. 

'*! thought the 'Panch)ra' had sailed before this 
time," said the old skipper, as we passed just out of 
hail of the ships. "They have been a long time 
fitting lier for sea. 1 wonder." said lie to his mate, 
"who that is that has got in sinee we l(4't. Get the 



OVER THE BAR. 257 

glass, and see if you can make out her name when 
we cross her stern." 

The mate brought an old battered telescope from 
a eleet in the eompanionway, and, after squinting for 
some time, muttered: 

''P — her stern is so rusty that hang me if I can 
make out the letters — the name begins with a P; I 
can see that. There's ;i T in it, and the last letter 
looks like an 11." 

"Yes. tliat's ail right." s;iid the skipper. ''That's 
the old "Plutareh.' 8he has been expected some 
time, and has had a long j^assage home; but she is 
one of the old Anno Dominy ships, and sails about 
as fast as you ean whip a toad through tar. I was 
in her two v'y'ges myself in my young days, and we 
never could drive nu)re than six knot out of her in 
a gale of wiiul. She seems to have a foul bottom, 
too. But she has crawled home at last, and she has 
brought a good load of ile. too. She had twenty-one 
hund'ed at last accounts, and that ain't to be 
.sneezed at. now-a-days." 

"No. indeed, it ain't.'' returned his i)artner. "Rut 
when Avas you in the Plutarch? Who had her 
then ? ' ' 

"Old Hosea Coffin had her; that's when she was 
new. and was called a dandy ship at that time. Then 
I steered a ])oat in her next v'y'ge with 'Himelech 
SAvain — you knew him?" 

"Yes. I remember; that's when T was in the 
'Viper,' on the Brazed Banks." 

I could not but look with admiration upon tliese 
old veterans, who talked abont long voyages round 



258 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

Cape Horn and on the "Banks" as though they had 
been mere pleasure trips across a harbor and back, 
or any sueh trifling matter. Two or three years in 
these old fVllows' lives seemed like the same period 
in the history of nations, occupying but a line or 
two of the chronicler. But the vessel was rapidly 
drawing in round "Brant Point." and all my com- 
rades, many of whom had not yet fully recovered 
from sea-sickness, had nuistered on deck to see the 
low, sandy island and busy little town of Nantucket, 
which now lay fairly before us. Several more 
whaleships were lying at the wharves, some of them 
dismantled, and stripped to a girtlinc. others partly 
rigged for sea. and two or three hove down for coy*- 
pering. This was in the summer of 1841. Avhen 
Nantucket may be said to have Ixmhi in the /enith 
of its i)rosperit>'. More new ships were built than 
in any previous season, and the general impression 
appeared to be that the partisan cries of "two 
dollars a day and roast lieef to the laboring man" 
were to be literally fulfilled, and that the price of 
oil was to reach a standard ])Ositively fabulous. xViid 
so it did — fabulously low. as every ])o()r whaleman 
can testify, wlio arrived in 1842-:?. aiul s(»ld liis sperm 
oil for fifty or sixty cents a gallon. 

As the sloop waj"pe<l in alongside the wharf, a 
spruce young man jumped on deck. and. saluting the 
skipper, asked him when he left New York, and, in 
the same breath, how many men he had brought. 
"Twenty-five," said the old num. And. having thus 
satisfied himself that the cargo delivered cor- 
responded with the invoice, he invited us all to come 



OVER THE BAR. 259 

up to "the store." Then, mounting into a one-horse 
cart — a sort of green box on two wheels — which 
stood in waiting, he called upon us to "jump up." 
We jumped up till the box was full of us, standing 
in solid phalanx, and the rest followed, as infantry 
of the rear guard ; and thus, the admired of all be- 
holders, we proceeded up the central or "Straight 
Wharf." and up ]\Iain Street to the store. The 
spruce young man informed us that his name was 
Richards, and that he was connected with the estab- 
lishment as a sort of out-door clerk. 

The store of Messrs. Brooks & Co. fronted directly 
on the square or grand plaza of Nantucket. They 
dealt in all kinds of ready-made clothing and dry 
goods, intitting as well as outfitting goods: and the 
store was a grand resort and rendezvous of seafaring- 
men. At the time of our jirrival. it was enlivened by 
the ])resence of numerous whalemen, of various 
grades in rank, from chief mates of ships, sedate, 
dignified-looking men. dressed in long togs in neat 
style, who sat smoking, comjiaring notes al)out mat- 
ters and things, "round the other side of land." and 
re-killing, at a safe distance, many "forty-barrel 
bulls." which they had years ago slaughtered, at 
imminent peril of life and limb, down to overgrown 
boys, who had nuide one voyage, aspirants for 
boatsteerers' berths, who wore fine blue round 
jackets and l<»w-(|uartered morocco pumps. v>ith fi 
great superabundanee of ribl)on. as was the fashion 
at that period, carried flaming red handkerchiefs 
either awkwardly in their hands or hanging half out 
at their jacket pockets, masticated tobacco iu pro- 



260 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

digious qim lit it it's, and in various ways aped the tar, 
to the great aiiinseinent of tlieir elders, wiio passed 
remarks to each other in eontidential tones. 

"Here comes young Folger, rolling down to St. 
Helena, eighteen cloths in tlie loAver studdingsail, 
and no change out of a dollar.'' 

'"What ship was he in?" asked another. 

"In that i)luni pndd'ner that got in hist week — 
what's her name.'" 

"O, that old hrig over at the New North ^Vharf ? 
The -Sphynx.' " 

"He wants a l)ilge ])niiip in eadi jxicket to piiiup 
the salt out." 

"Yes — Lot's wife never was half as salt as some 
of these l)oys." 

"They'll outgrow that after they have made two 
or three more voyages, and got the fi'ather-edge 
ruhhed off." 

"Yes. they'll find it isn't all fun to come ami go, 
'happy go lucky.' when they have more to think 
ahout. AYell. we've all had our thoughtless days.'* 

The last speaker had lately married a young wife, 
and Avas to sail the next morning, mate of the Pan- 
dora. 

"Well. Gardnei-. yom- time is gc^tting short." said 
his iK^xt neighbor, with a careh'ss laugh, slapping 
him on the liack. "I'm sorry for you. boy. but it 
can't be helped, and I wi.sh \ on a good voyage." 
continued the rough sympathizer, a powerful young 
man. who had just arrived second mate of the 
Plutarch, and had not >('t l)egun to wear the br(»n/.e 
off his face. 



OVER THE BAR. 261 

''Never niiiul. Chase; yoii can blow for a short 
time, but you'll be travelling the same road soon." 

''Not this winter." returned Chase, with a tri- 
nniphant shake of the head. "I'll set my foot down 
on that." 

'"Don't be too sure of that." said Gardner. "I'll 
bet you'll be out again this fall." 

"Not I." 

"Well. I expeet to see you in Talcahuano in the 
spring, and I'll put you in mind of this." 

"If you see me there as soon as that. I'll stand 
treat." 

"I see the old slaver has brought a lot of bran 
new sailors from New York to-day. \ suppose. 
Gardner, you'll have the training of some of these 
young fellows." said another. 

"No. not this lot: onrs are all on board. These 
are to go in the Fortitude and the Arethusa." 

"Well. Grafton's going in the Arethusa. They'll 
all find their right places there." 

"There's a fellow will make a slashing midship 
oarsman." said one. 

''Yes. and here's another for a bowman." replied 
liis neighbor, with a glance at me .as I stood within 
ear shot, and overheard this colloquy. 

I had no chance to hear more at present; for the 
^vhole party, after their names had been registered, 
were handed over to the tender mercies of the board- 
ing-house keeper, and the procession moved off. in 
straggling order, "down under the bank" to dinner. 

^Ir. Loftus. the boarding-master, was an elderly 
gentlenmn of pompous appearance, who had been 



262. SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

vvlialiiig himself in his younger days, and thought 
himself quite an oracle in his way. He entertained 
his boarders with many thrilling reminiscences of his 
youth, interspersed with sage advice how to conduct 
ourselves so as to get ahead, and rise in our pro- 
fession, as he himself had done, and regretted that 
ill health had prevented him from following it up 
until he got command of a ship, which must in- 
evitably have been the case in a few more years. 
He informed us that the majority of us would 
probably be shipped the next day in the Arethusa, 
and we might consider ourselves truly fortunate in 
getting this opportunity, as the Arethusa was a new 
ship, Avith all the modern improvements, and a crack 
appointment, so that we might look upon the voyage 
as already made, before the ship left home. Further- 
more the ship carried three maints' gall'nt sails, and 
had more backstays than any other sliip in port, 
which fact, he said, had a material bearing on the 
success of the cruise. 

All this produced a feeling of anxiety in the minds 
of the newly enlisted to l)e chosen on the roll of the 
Arethusa rather than to be left for the Fortitude and 
other less desirable ships. 

The next day we were all mustered at the store, 
and introduced in the aggregate, to the agent of the 
ship, and Captain Upton, the future connnander. a 
middle-sized man. all Ixtne and muscle, with ke«'n 
eyes, and a ])eculiar stride in his gait, whicli might 
admit of a small wheelbarrow being driven between 
his legs without touching either. He seemed to have 
his own way in the selection of his crew, the agent 



OVER THE BAR. 263 

leaving the matter in his hands; and twelve of us 
having been called out, of whom 1 was blattered to 
find myself one, the rest were left for Captain Wyer, 
of the Fortitude, who, being a young man. just en- 
tering on his first command, was fain to content him- 
self with what he could get in many ])articulars, 
Avhere Captain Tpton would have what he wanted. 
We were catechised, in- brief, concerning our 
nativity and previous occupatidu, miuI the build aiul 
physical points of each Avere looked to. not forget- 
ting the eyes, for a sharp-sighted man was a jewel 
in the estimation of the genuine whaling captain. 

A formidable document lay on the desk, awaiting 
our signatures, and, almost before I knew it, I found 
myself entered on the Arethusa's articles, with the 
hundred and fiftieth, as blacksmith and green hand. 
Our outfits of "clothing and other necessaries" were 
put into our chests for us at the store; and most of 
us now donned some articles to replace such of our 
clothing as was in a dilapidated coudition, while the 
best garmeuts of which we hHi)pened to stand ])0S- 
sessed were still retaiueil in wear. The result was 
an incongruity in th(^ vjirioiis jjjtrts of our attire, 
which occasioned nnich merriment. Thus, one wore 
a check shirt under the shade of a glossy beaver; 
another a ''claw-hannner" or dress-coat over bright 
red flaiHiels; while tarpaidin hats surmounted with 
white shirts and dickeys, and patent leather peeped 
out under vohuuinous duck trowsers. The whalemen 
crili<Mse(l us as "half-lack half-gentlemen. " as we 
took a stroll <lown the hiisv wharves, to look at thi? 



264 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

shipping generally, and espeeiall\' to inspect the 
noble vessel which was to he «»iir futiu'c home. 

We wound our tortuous way down through a laby- 
rinth of old anchors and trypots. spars, timber and 
oil-casks, now diving under a capstan bar. and again 
making a detour to double a long pair of truclcs or 
skids, backed up at a tier of oil to parbuckle its load 
on. We all fell in love witli the Arethusa at sight. 
which might, in our case, be termed an illustration 
of "love after marriage," seeing that our names 
were already on her papers. She was indeed a fine 
specimen of naval architecture, and her model was 
much admired at that time, for this was before the 
day of extreme clippers. She was painted with the 
bright waist, a style more in vogue then than now. 
consisting of a lu-oad yellow streak, relieved 1)\' 
narrow Avhite moulding or ribbons. She appeared 
to justify all that the jjoardiug-master had ^aid of 
her; and. in the simplicity of our hearts, we had no 
doubt that his enumeration of her mainto'gall'ut-s'ls 
and backstays was perfectly correct. 

It oeing a holiday afternoon, there was a crowd of 
boys Oil the Avharf. Avho appeared to mo to he (|uite a 
distinctive class of juveniles, accustouu'd to consider 
themselves as {iredestiued mariners. Their fathers 
and grandfathers before them had spent the whole 
period of their lives "" i-ound ( "ape lloi-n : " their elder 
brothers were even now serving their apprenticeshi]> 
in the same manner, and. as regarded themselves, it 
■was only a (piestiou of time how soon they should 
start. They climbed i-atlines lil<e moidvcys — little 
fellows of ten or twelve \ears — and laid out on the 



OVER THE BAR. 265 

yard-aniis with the most i)t'rfect uoiiehalaiice, shout- 
ing and laujyihing at our awkward attempts to ])er- 
t'orm the same feats. They ridiculed us as "greeii- 
ies."' and there was no help for it but to take it all 
in good part, and bear with their boyish im|)iideiice 
as philosophically as might be. Hostile adv;iiiees 
were useless, for we might as well have kicked at the 
empty air. 

We certainly could not complain of want of atti-ti- 
tion during our stay among these jilain-hearted 
people. We could hardly turn a corner but we were 
.saluted with the war-cry of souie of these eiid)r\'o 
circuunuivigators. ""See the greenies. come to go 
ileing;'" while the smiles of l)eauty were extorted by 
our amphibious costumes wherever we stivtlled about 
town. 

I luuhu'stood that two of the boys were going with 
us in the ship. Wishing to Icnow something of my 
fntnre shipnuites. I made inquiry of the landlord's 
<laughter. Of course she knew them both. One was 
Kelly's son who lived away in Kgyi)t. and the othei* 
was Obed ]>. 

•"And who is ()l)ed Bee?'' I asked. 

"Why. he's a second cousin of ours.'' 

"And does ^[r. Bee live in Egypt, too?*' 

"Who?'' she asked, with surprise. 

"Why. .Mr. Bee. Obed's father." said I iiniocently. 

"^Fr. Hoeg. you mean.'' said she, as soon as she 
could suppress her laughtin* so as to speak. "1 for- 
got to tell you that his name was Obed B. Hoeg. 
No, he don't live in Egypt: he lives over in Cruinea." 

I was more and more mystified; I thought of Led- 



266 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

yard and •Muny:(> Park, and pui'sucd iny African re- 
searches by in(iniring: 

"Wliat i)art of tin- world is this where you live — 
Nnhia or Abyssinia?" 

"Neither," answered the young lady, now fairly 
sereaming with laughtei'. "Why this is Xcirfowu." 

"ln<leed!" said 1. "And have you an 'Oldtowu,' 
too?" 

"Not in Nantucket." shi^ re])lied; "that's on the 
Vineyard." 

I did not learn, till long afterwards, that the name 
was universally used among the Nantueketers for 
Edgartown. 

But our stay in this (|uaint old town was short, in- 
deed, for the next afternoon we all reported our- 
selves on l)oard. under the fatherly care and escort 
of ^lessi-s. Brooks and Richards; and the Arethusa, 
WMth only topmasts aloft, and topsail yards crossed, 
dropped out from the Avharf. in tow of the "Tele- 
graph" steamer, for her station outside of the bar. 
there to complete rigging and loading for sea. She 
was at this time in charge of a pilot, and a sui)er- 
annuated whaling captain, who, having outlived active 
service, now found employment as <'hief stevedore 
and temporary captain, in cases wherc^ the regular 
otificers preferred to pay for "lay days." and remain 
with their fr'iends till the shij) was (piite i-eady for 
sea. 

l)ii*ectl\' on getting clear of the wliarf. we poor 
bewildered green hands, whose senses had gone 
wool-gathering amid the confusion of unintelligible 
orders connected with "hooking on." were set to 



• OVER THE BAR. 267 

work to heel the ship by rousing the chain eabk's 
and other ponderous articles all on one side, in order 
to lessen her draught of water; and this being ac- 
complished , the ship, after rubbing for a few 
minutes on the flats, went over clear, and about dark 
came to, with both anchors ahead, in the berth 
vacated by the Pandora which had gone to sea the 
dav before. 



268 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 



CHAPTER XX. 

There She Blows! or Whales We Caught. 



THE FIRST WHALE. 

The next moniing". having the tirst masthead. 1 was 
in the fore-topgallant erosstrees at sunrise, thinking, 
of eonrse. of the five dollars' bounty all tlie way np 
the rigging. The dim outline of the peak was still 
visible, and the topsails of the Pandora just in sight 
astern, the wnid still continuing moderate at W. N. 
W. both ships steering S. by W. As I looked astern, 
wheit 1 first *,'ot my footing aloft. I caught sight of 
something like a small puff of steam or white smoke, 
rising a little and blowing off on the water. Look- 
ing intently, at the same spot, after a short interval, 
another puff rose like the former, satisfying me. from 
the descriptions I had heard, that some sort of wiiale 
was there, and I instinctively shouted: 

"There she blows!" 

"Where away?" hailed ^Ir. Johnson, who was just 
crunbing the maintoj)mast rigging. "() yes I I see 
him! sperm whale. T believe — hold on a Itit till he 
blows again — yes — thar' sh" blo-o-ows! large sperm 
whale! two points off the b-ifboard! Blo-o-ows I 
headed 1(1 windward ! "' 

"How far otf:'"" sliouted .Mr. Grafton, from the 
deck. 



THE FIRST WHALE. 269 

"Thi-t-e miles! 'Ere sh' blo-o-owsl" 

By tliis time the old man was on deck, and ready 
for action. "Call all hands out. ]\Lr. Grafton! Hard 
a starboard, there ! Stand by to brace round the 
yards. Cook ! get your breakfast down as fast as 
you can. Keep the run of him, there, aloft ! ^Iain- 
top bowline, boat steerers! Sure it's a sperm whale, 
ell. Mr. Johnson? Stewartl! give me up tlie glass — 
1 must make a cleet in the gangway for that glass 
soon. .Muster 'em all up. Mr. Grafton, and get the 
lines in as fast as you can (mounting the slicai'i)ole). 
Sing out when Ave head right. .Mr. Johnson! Mr. 
Grafton, you'll have to ])racc shar{) np. 1 guess (just 
going over the maintop). See tlie Pandora, there? 
O yes! I see her (half way up the toi>mast rigging). 
Confouiul him! he's heading just right to see the 
whale, too! ("There goes flukes!' shouted the 
mulatto.) Yes! yes! I see him — just in time to see 
him (swinging his leg over the topmast crosstrees"). 
a noble fan. too! a l)uster! Haul aboai'd that main- 
taclc! We must have that fellow. Mi-. .Johnson. 
Stcady-y ! Kee]> her along just full and by. We 
nn>shil ht tin Paudorn get him, either!'' 

The Aivthusa bent gracefully to the l)reeze. as, 
braced sharp on the port tack, she darted through 
the Avater. as tlnnigh instinctively snnffing her i)rey. 
The whale was one of those |)atrlarchal old bnlls, 
who are often found alone, and would |)rol)ably stay 
d<»w(i more than an hour before he would be seen 
again. ^Meantime, the two shi))s were rapidly Hear- 
ing each other; and the Pandora's lookouts were not 
long in discovering that "something was np.'' as was 



270 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

eviiK-ed by her setting the main royal and foretui>- 
mast studding-sail, though they could not possibly 
have seen the whale yet. .But the whale was appar- 
ently Avorking slowly to windward, and the Pandora 
coining with a flowing sheet, all of which was much in 
her favor. The old man remained aloft, anxiously 
Avaiting the next rising, from time to time hailing 
the deck to know "what time it was?"' and satisfy- 
ing himself that the boats were in readiness, and 
breakfast served out to those who wanted it. As 
three quarters of an hour passed, he grew jnore 
anxious and fidgety, shifting his legs about in the 
cross trees, and clutching the spy-glass in his nervous 
grasp. 

"Are you all ready, ]Mr. Grafton?" 

"Ay. ay. sir." answered the mate fr(»m tlie inain- 
tdp. where he had mounted to get a look at the whale 
Avhen he slu>uld rise again. 

"Let them hoist and swing the boats." 

"Ay. ay, sir." 

"I think I saw a ripple then." said the second 
nu(te. from the topsail yard directly beneath him. 

"Where?" demanded the captain. 

"Four points off the lee bow." 

"O! no. you didn't, he won't come there. ITe'll 
rise right ahead or a little on the weather-bow. I 
don't think he'll go much to windward — good gra- 
cious! see that Pandora come down! She'll be right 
in, the suds here, directly! I thiidc we've run far 
enough, eh. ~Slr. Grafton? Haul the maiusaii up. 
then! and s(|uare the main yard!" 

Silenee for a few minutes after tliis evolution was 
performed. 



THE FIRST WHALE. 271 

''lie can't be far oft' whfii he eouies up again. 
Look at the lucii old Wortli has got aloft there, his 
crosstrees swanning, and every rattliii manned. — 
Look sharp I all of ye I We must see that whale 
when he first breaks water. That lielm eased down.' 
Haul the foresail up'.' and let the jil)-*siieets flow a 
little more. It ean't be possible that whale has been 
up — no. we eoiddn't help seeing him. some of ns — I 
/:noic 'twas a sperm whale. I saw his fan: besides, 
there's ]Mr. Johnson — best eyes in tlie ship. What 
time is it. there? An hour atid ten minutes that 
whale has been down — a long-winded old dog! AVe 
shall liave to wear round. I'm afraid we shall forge. 
BIo-o-ou'sI right ahead, not one mile oft'. Down there 
and lower away I Now. Mr. (Irafton. work care- 
fully — Mr. Dunham, too; if you don't strike this 
rising, spread yonr ebances well, and don't crowd 
each other — but don'i i/ok let ilu I'anthn-u (jtf him!" 
The ea]itain was by this time in the stern of his own 
boat. •'AH ready. Mr. .lolnison ? Where's Old Jeft' 
at my midship oar? 0. here you are. eh ! You ain't 
turned Avhite yet — lower away! Cooper! Where's 
Cooper? As soon as we are all clear, wear round — - 
Let run that davit fall:* — Wear round and make a 
short board — haul up your tackle, boy. Keep to 
windward all you can. Cooper! Pull a little oft* the 
weat]ier-])ow. Mr. Grafton, and then set >-our sail! 
Haul in these gripes towing over the (piartcr — }>y 
thunder, there's Worth's boats all down I coming 
with fair wind, too! Out oars, lads." 

The Pandora had luft'ed to and dropped her boats 
a mile to windward, and thev were coming down 



272 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

Lefore the ])reeze. wing-and-Aving. with their paddles 
Hashing in the sunlight, and their immense jibs guyed 
out on the bow-oar as stndding-sails, promising to 
stand about an equal chance for the whale with our- 
selves. The larboard boat to which I belonged 
proved the fastest of the three, and had a little the 
lead. After pulling a few quiet strokes to windward. 
Father Grafton set his sails, and. as he gave the 
order to "'peak the oars and take the })addles," 
seemed as cool and calm as when engaged in the 
most ordinary duty on board. There was no con- 
fusion or bustle in his boat, but with his practised 
eye fixed upon the huge spermaceti, he kept en- 
couraging us in a low. dry tone, as he conned the 
steei'ing oai- with such skill that he seemed to do it 
without etfort. 

■'XoAV. lads, you fac*^ round to paddle, you can 
all sec him. 1 declare, he's a noble fellow — ninety 
barrels inider his hide, if there's a droj). Hunker, do 
you s(^e that fell(»w ? he's got a l)ack like a ten-acre 
lot — paddle hard, lads — if you miss him, go right 
overboard yourself, and don't come up again — long 
and strong stroke, boys, on your paddles. See that 
boat coming '? That 's Ray. the second mate of the Pa n- 
dora — three or four more spouts, and we'll have him 
— he's ours sure! they can't get here in time — 
scratch hard, boys! don't hit your paddles on the 
gunwale. Stand up. liunkcr. and gc^t your jibtack 
<'leai'! Don't let them 'gaily' nou. if they shout in 
that boat." 

•'All right!" said his boatstccrei-, with his eager 
hand resting on the iron ](ol(\ "Xevcr fear, sir." 



THE FIRST WHALE. 273 

"Paddie Jiard. lads, a stroke or two. That \s right, 
Bunker, Keep cool, my ho\'. Keep cool, and inake 
sure of him. ' ' 

A wild and prolonged shout rang on the air from 
six sturdy pairs of lungs in the Pandora's waist-boat, 
as Mr. Ray, seeing that he was battled, let tly his 
sheets and I'ounded to. a ship's length to windward. 
It was too late, however. 

"All right." said Father Grafton, in the same dry, 
quiet tone, as Ixd'ore. "Ilohl youi- hand. Hunker. 
Hold your hand. l)oy. till you're [)ast his hump— an- 
other shoot, lads — way en(nigh, in i)addles. Now% 
Bunker! give it to him. Down to yonv oars, the rest. 
Give him i'titlnr mn, Ixii/! Well done! both irons to 
the hitclu's. Hold water, all! IJear a hand. now. 
and roll uj) that sail. Wet line, Tom! wet line! 
AVhere's your bucket! All ready with your sail, 
Bunker? Let her come then — all right. CV)me aft 
here, now, and let me get a dig at him." 

The line was spinning rouiul the k)ggerhea<l with 
a whizzing noise, and a smoking heat, as The huge 
leviatlian. stung to the cpiick. darted down into the 
depths of the ocean. Bunker thre\v on the sec(uid 
round turn to check him, and jannning the bight of 
the line over the stern sheets, watched it carefidly 
as it fllew through his grasp; while the mate cleared 
liis lance, and got ready to renew the attack. Every 
moment his anxiety increased as he kei)t turning his 
head, and looking at the tub of line, rapidly settling, 
as the whale ran it out. '*I declare, I believe he'll 
take all my line. Blacksnntli ! pass along the drug! 
Cheek him hard. Bunker!" then, seeing the other 



274 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

boats near at hand, he opened his throat, and. for 
the first time, we learned the power of Father Graf- 
ton's lung's. 

"Spring hard, .Mr. Dunham! 1 want your line! 
Cast oflt' your eraft, aud stand by to throw your liue 
tome! Spring' hard! Do!" 

The ash stieks in the waist-boat were doing their 
best, as the loud "Ay. ay!" was borne back (»'er 
the water from Duiiham. while the old nuin eould 
be seen in the rear of the pieture. wildl\' straining: 
every nerve to be "in at the death." and heaving 
desperately at the after oar. with his hat off. his 
hair tiying loosely in the breeze, and his whole frame 
writhing with eager exeitement. Our line was going', 
going'; already there Avas but one Hake in the tub. 
when the waist-boat ranged up on our (puirter. aiul 
Fisher, with the coil gathered in his hand, whirb'd it 
over his head, making ready foi' a cast. At this 
instant, the strain was suddenly relieNcd. and the 
liue slacked u|). 

"Never mind!" roared .Mr. Grafton. "Hold on, 
Fishei"! All I'ight. he's coming! Never mind your 
line, .Ml". Dunham, he's coming u|)! pidl ahead and 
get fast! Get a laiu-e at him- if you can! Haul line, 
i(s! Faee round here, all of ye, and haul line! Can^ful. 
Duidvcr. about coiling down! He'll be uj) now. in a 
minute, haul lively!" 

The waist-boat had shot ahead under a fresii im- 
pulse of her oars, and th(> cai)tain came di-awing up 
abreast of the fast boat. 

"Are you well fast. Mr. Grafton?" 

"Ay, ay, sir; both irons ehock to the socki-t." 



THE FIRST WHALE. 275 

''That's the talk! Got 'most all your line hasn't 
lie?" 

"Yes. sir." 

"Well, gather in as fast as you ean. Spring hard, 
ii.'s! Spring I 1 want to grease a lance in that fish! 
There he is up!" he shouted as the tortured monster 
broke water, shoving his whole head out in his agony, 
iind started to windward. 

Fisher had bent on his eraft again, and was about 
two ships' lengths from the whale when he rose. 

"Haul (juiek. my lads!" said the mate, "and get 
this stray line in! There's Mr. Dunham going on, 
and the old man will be with him in a minute. There 
lie brings to!" as the whale suddenly stopped short 
in his mad eareer, and lay swashing up ami (b)WM. as 
if rallying his strength for a fresh eif<»rt. 

"There's 'stand up" in the waist boat! There he 
darts! Hurrah I two boats fast! Haul lively, us, and 
^et his line in !" 

The whale seemed staggered l)y this af<Miiiiiilatioii 
of eoUl iron in his systi'iii. and lay wallowing in the 
trough of the waves. It was a eritical moment for 
him; for Mr. Dunham was getting his lanee on the 
half-cock, ready for dai'ting. and. as the whale sud- 
<b'iily "milled short I'ound" to pass across the head 
of his boat, the yoiuig man saw his advantage, and 
vried : 

"I'ulj ahead! Pull ahead, and we'll net a 'set' on 
him! Lay forward, Fisher! Lay forward hard, my 
lad! right on for his fin ! Pull ahead! So. way enounli 
— hold water, all;" and. driven b\' a strong arm, 
the shar}) lance entered his '"life." its lu'ight shank 
disappearing till the pole brought it up. 



276 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

■'Hold lici- sol"' s;ii(l the Seconal mate. "Way 
•-iiougli ! just hold her so till lie rises again!"' as the 
whale hollowed his l)aek under the sea, now oriin- 
soned with his lii'e-tide, and again rising, received the 
lance anew in his vitals; bnt the iirst "set" Avas 
enough, and the gush of clotted blood from his 
s])ii'ae]e told how effectually it had done its work. 

"There." said Father Grafton, who had just got 
his liiu' gathered in. and was i-eady to renew the 
assault, "there's the red tlag Hying at his nose! 
l^laeksniith. we may as well put up our lanee. we 
shan't want it today. Well done. .Mr. Dunham I Thick 
as tar the first lanee! IIoUl on line. Hiudu'r! heave 
on a turn!" as the whale, making a dying effort, 
started up to windwai'd, {lassing among the Pan- 
dora's boats within easy hail. 

"Give us your warp. Pitman, if you want a tow," 
said l^unker in passing to ^Ir. Ray's boat steerer. 

"Every dog has his day." gi-owled I'itman. in re- 

ply. ' 

"Yes. GV)me al)oai'd toimiri-ow and I "II give you 
a 'scrap' fV>r luek." 

The whale went in his "Hurry." ami turned up 
nnder the stern of the Pandora, as she luft'tnl to for 
her l>oats; but Ca})tain Worth (M>u]d not aff'ord to 
lose the breeze long. and. by the time the last l)oat 
was on the cranes, liis ludin was up and his mi/./en- 
to|)sail shivering. The old ship fell off' to her former 
course, and setting her royal and studding sails, left 
lier more fortutiate consort "alone in hci* glorw"' 

Captain rpt(»n had no occasion to "gi'easc his 
lance." bnt seeijitr that the woi'k was done, and the 



THE FIRST WHALE. 277 

victory Wdii. iiiacle the best of his Avay on board. He 
made a short stretch, fetching to windward of us. 
and then stood along- under easy sail, till ^Ir. Gral- 
ton. having "cut a hole" and got his line all clear 
for running, set a waif for the ship. She then ran 
down for us. and luffing to handsomely with the head 
yards aback, and the foreto])sail on the cap, the 
line was "streanu'd," and led into the "chock." The 
jib being run down, and the helm lashed a-lee, so as 
completely to deaden the ship's way. the whale was 
lianled down to the ship, with the inspiring and time- 
honored chorus of "Cheerily, men I" the burden ])e- 
ing led oft' by Old Jeft': and at ten o'clock, the 
monster. Avho when the sun rose appeared like a 
monarch of the dee}) sporting in all the conscious- 
ness of sovereign })ower. lay securely chained up 
alongside the good ship Arethusa. 

"Well. Bunker," said the old man to the l)lushiiig 
yoiuig boatsteerer. "you ])lugged this fellow solid, 
at any rate, if you never do another. The Pandora's 
crew tried to gaily you. didn't they'" 

"Yes. sir," said Bunker, "either me or the whale. 
I don't know Avhich. But they were too late with 
their yells." 

"Well. T don't know as I can blame Mv. Ray," 
.said the captain. "T suppose he thought, if he could 
gaily you or the whale, he would stand as good a 
chance as any of us next rising, as there is no telling. 
Avith any certaijity. Avhere a gallied* whale will 
come np. " 

*This word "gallied" is in constant use among whalemen in the 
sense of frightened or ronfused. It is perhaps, a corruption of th»- 
obsolete verb, fiallow. to be found in old writers. Thus Shakespeare 
hiis in Kinsr I^ear. "The wrathful skies arallow the deep wanderers of 
the dark." 



278 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

"I don't think Worth feels in very good humor 
today.'' continued the old nniii, turning to Mr. 
Grafton. "I'm sure I shouldn't, if he had got this 
whale right under my nose. But it's our turn to erow 
today, and perhaps at another time it may l)e his. 
I was mighty afraid at one time he would take all 
your line before we eould get to you. And when I 
saw the strain slack up suddenly. I was more 
anxious than ever, for T feared you were loose from 
him. But it's all right as it is. Couldn't be better — 
and the weather is promising for taking care of him. 
The new ship will get her ehristening now. and she 
will work all the better for being greased. It is too 
late to ship the oil home, for I shall not put IkicIc to 
the AVestern Islands now." 



NANTUCKET IN THE REVOLUTION . 279 



CHAPTER XXI. 

Sea-Girt Nantucket. 



NANTUCKET IN THE REVOLUTION. 

Among the many virissituclcs which the inhal)itants 
of Nantucket liave had to endure, the most serious 
and far reaching; were the losses and ])rivations in- 
flicted upon them during tlie Revolutionary war. 
From .Macy's History tlie following selections are 
made : 

"Th«^ir situation was such as to render them ex- 
posed to the ravages of an enemy, without the means 
of making any defence. Being surrounded by the sea, 
they could be assailed fi'om any (juarter, and were 
liable to be plundered by any petty cruisers which 
might visit them for that purpose. It was clearly 
foreseen that the inhabitants could derive no pro- 
tection from oui" own country." 

"Towards the close of 1774 there Avere 150 sail of 
vessels in the wluiling service belonging to the Island, 
and the greater part of them at sea. The owners at 
this time concluded to sti-i]) and haul them up as fast 
as they ai-i-ived, in hopes that the impending storm 
might blow ovei- without any serious consequences. 
Hut. alas, liow fj-aij is )nan, and how ])lind to future 
events." 

Natni-ally tlie dangei- to tlieii- sliij)s at sea was the 
soui'ce of their g)'avest apprehensions. 

News of the battle of Lexington in the sj)ring of 
177r> reached Nantucket a few davs after. 



280 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

"AH Iiii.siiicss w;is immediately at a stand. Dis- 
courag:ed and powerless, they could do little else than 
meet together and bemoan their fate. Every mind 
Avas overwhelmed with fearful anticipations, all 
springing- from one general canse — the Avar. ^Nlany 
Avere deeply concerned for the Avelfare of their hus- 
bands, children or brothers, then at sea, on Avhom 
they depended for their sul)sistanee and the comforts 
of iife." 

"The inha])itants Avere now driven from their 
Avonted lines of ])usiness into a state of inactiA'ity. 
Some of them joined the army, others engaged on 
board of privateers," fcAv of Avhom CA-er returned to 
the island. A feAv families remoA'ed to various parts 
of the country, chiefly to the provinces of New York 
and North Carolina. But the l)ulk of the people con- 
cluded to remain, and do the best they could. 

*Many Xantvicket men sailed with the famous Paul .Tones. In 
speaking of the ei'ew of the privateer "IJang:er" (21 out of 131 were 
from Nantucket.) -Jones says, "it was the best crew I have ever seen, 
and. I )>elieve. the best afloat." 

"Whaling having noAV ceased, the Avliarves and 
shores Avere for a while lined with vessels stripped to 
their naked masts. The people, hoAvever, soon began 
to turn their attention to fishing on the shoals and 
round the shores, and many, to save what property 
they had acquired, went into the farming ])usiness. 
They soon found themselves wholly cut off from all 
kinds of imported goods. TIh' price of salt was much 
enhanced, and Avifhout it they could dci-ivc little ad- 
vantage I'l'oiu tisliing. Attempts wci'c made to pro- 
duce s;il1, lint with little success. 

West India pi'oduce of all Idtuls, ;is well as salt, 
soon l)cc:iinc excessively high; and a prospect of a 



ill THE urmurnmiASi'f. 'mr 






JHLLIAA x\7l 
?AC;L V/fJitTH 



ALU® 

TI£ BliriilPtA€E d? JOillf ?A0L J0il£3 . 
AT AltBI«IUi« i^ed-TLAi^fD ill im_ 

tm tABllTl IS ilt£Ct£i) B/ ' 



1'! 



ff— 




From Original in Historical Rooms. 



NANTUCKET IN THE REVOLUTION. 281 

])rotital>Ie business i'or all was thus presontod, too 
flattering- to be disregarded." 

Cautious vezitures were soon made in siaall vessels 
carrying cargoes of oil, candles, fish, lumber, and 
other articles to the West Indies, returning (if for- 
tunate enough to escape the enemy) Avith other car- 
goes which found a ready market here. It was a 
dangerous business, in which few could afford to 
take large risks. Therefore many combined to make 
up each cargo. "On this plan a few vessels were 
soon got away, and such as returned in safety made 
very profitable voyages. This business succeeded 
Avell till the British took possession of a number of 
American seaports, and were thus enabled to send 
out numerous small privateers. The coast was soon 
so thronged with these that it was difficult for ves- 
.se!s to ai'rrive in safety. The loss of property by 
capture was a small evil compared with the suffer- 
ings of those who Avere made prisoners. As soon as 
the British took possession of New York and Kliode 
Island, they established prison-ships, in Avhich thou- 
sands of American seamen Avere pent up, and thou- 
sands perished from privations and inhuman treat- 
ment. ]\Iany Nantucket seamen Avere imprisoned on 
these ships, and suffered tlie Avorst hardships, often 
ending only in death. The West India trade, though 
very hazardous. Avas continued as long as the smaller 
A'essels lasted, but they diminished fast, many being- 
captured, others Avrecked on the coast during dark, 
stormy nights. Provisions, notwithstanding what 
Avas raised on the island, Avere A'ery scarce and dear, 
Mild iiiauA- suffered from Avaiit." 



282 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

After ii few \ cMi-s of Will- }i large proportion of the 
jK'Oi>It' had t'xhanstcd thcii- savings, and those who 
still retained capital were afraid to embark it. ('orn 
was freipientlv tln-ee ilollai's per bushel, flour thirty 
dollars per bari'el, and other i)rovisions in propor- 
tion. As wood beeanie scarce various substitutes 
were used, especially peat. "Although the town Avas 
not sacked or burnt during the war. it was often 
tlu'eatened. It A\as often visited by English cruisers, 
but only in one iustance did they commit serious 
depredation. On Api-il (ith, 177!), eight sail of ves- 
sels came to the bar. two of which came into the 
wharf. One hundred men then landed, and i)roceedecl 
to plnndei' several stores and to commit some (»ther 
de])i"edations. The value of property tal^en Was 
about £10.000. The ]ieo])le attempted no d(4'ence. and 
the invaders left the next day. 

In June, 1771). a committee was ajijioiuted l>y the 
town to pr(»ceed to Newport, thence to .\ew Yoi'k. 
to i-e])i-esent to the Hritish commaudei's the diflieul- 
ties under which the people labored. This com- 
mittee ])resented a memoi'ial from the town, stating 
the facts, and on theii" return to the island, bi'onght 
a. connnunication from the <'onniian(lei'-in-chief of 
the i^i'ifish foi'ces. giving assurance of his good dis- 
position towai'ds the town. (See .Macy's Hist.. ])p. 
!)!»-100.) Sir II«Miry Clinton fully united in the fore- 
going declarations, and assni'ed the connnitte,' that 
they should be complied with. The rejioi't was cor- 
dially accej)ted, and it api)eared that all was done 
that could be expected toward ])rotection. Knt after 
a few months it was learned that a s(|uadrou of 



NANTUCKET IN THE REVOLUTION. 283 

avmed vessels Avtis preparing to leave New York lor 
Nantueket, for the jmrpose of plundering the town 
and of burning it if any resistance was ott'ered. These 
were believed to be government vessels, authorized, 
which caused the greater alarm. It finally a]ipeared 
that they had no authority from the Hi'itish com- 
niandei"-in-ehief at New York, hut that tlie loyalists 
instituted and promoted the plan. It was soon kiKtwn 
that this fleet had arri\ed at the \'ine\ai-d. and tlie 
people of Nantucket were i)anic stricken, seeing no 
possibility of escape, on account of the man.\' l^ig- 
lish cruisers in the sound. Hasty efforts were made 
by nuniy to Conceal valuables in remote places, or 
to bury them in the earth. Others simply trusted in 
Providence, (piietly awaiting the event. A constant 
lookout was kept every day. but no fliM't a])peared. 
At length a connnunieation came from George 
]jeonard. Naval Connnander of the Scpiadron. and 
Edward Winslow. Captain of a party of troops, in 
which various charges were made against the people; 
in suT)stance. that they had "wafted a sloop from 
the harboi". |)reventing her caj^ture b>' Leonard, 
also had assisted his majesty's enemies, etc.. etc., 
and unless these charges could be removed, they 
should considei' N'Hntueket a common enemy, and 
treat the people accordingly. This connnunieation 
added to the alarm of the peo])le. A meeting was 
held, and a reply to the chai-ges was fi-amed. This 
was dated Nov. 18. 1779. and signed by P'retlerick 
Folger. Town ('lerk. (^lacy. ])p. 104-r)-6.) A com- 
mittee was appointed to beai- the memorial, and t(t 
use their endeavors to give satisfaction. On their 



284 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

I'ctiii'ii th('\' reported to the efifeet that they liad re- 
ceived fidl assurance of imnmiiity from invasion "as 
long' as tliey adhered to their own votes and acted 
consistently with them." Immediately afterwards 
the s(iuadron returned to New York. 

"Jn every instance of apj)lieation heinir .made to 
the British Commanders for relief, it was granted, 
as far as circumstances would allow.'' Greater suf- 
fering Avas experienced by the inhabitants in the 
year 1780 than at any otlier pericxl during the war. 
During the winter of that year (an unusually severe 
one) their distress Avas very great, as the greater 
part of theiu had been reduced to penury. The liar- 
bor was closed with ice from Dec. 20tli throughout 
the winter, and no sup})lies conld be obtained from 
the mainland. For wood they were dependent on 
scrub oak and juniper l>rought from C'oskata. six 
miles from town : with this meagre supply, tliey were 
barely able to avoid ])erishing from cold. Still more 
distress was felt from want of ])rovisious. in -[uIa,. 
1780. a petition was sent l)y the p(M)ph'. through 
their agent. Timoth\' Folger. to Sir Henry Clinton, 
commander-in-chief of the British foi-ces. praying 
that they might be ])ermitte(l to send vess<'ls on 
whaling voyages, and others to fish around the 
islaiul. and to go after wood and pi'ovisions. Pro- 
tection also was asked against the removal of prop- 
erty from the island. This petition, although it had 
not the immediate effect asked for. proved of much 
advantage in ])r()nu)ting whaling without the risk of 
capture. Tn 17S1 a memoi'ial was again resorted to. 
asking for protection of pro[)rrty. and such iiulu'l- 



NANTUCKET IN THE REVOLUTION. 285 

genres as could l)e granted. The eojuiiiittei^ who 
carried this petition to Admiral Digby. then in com- 
mand at New York, reported having received from 
him a i)ositive assurance of protection "Avithiu the 
bar of the harl)or. " Toward the end of the year a 
considerable number of permits were obtained for 
Avlialing. With the return of peace in 178-') the 
[i('(i])l(- began to take heart again, though tlieir i-on- 
• lition was still deplorable. "In 177") the tor.nage 
owned at Nantucket was about 14.867 tons. During 
the war tifteen vt^ssels were lost at sea. and one 
hundred and thirty-four captured, total loss in ton- 
nage. 12.4b7 tons, of which )uore than 10. 000 fell into 
th(^ hands of the enemy." (AFacy's History. ]). 122. V 
It has been estimated that about 1.600 Nantucket 
men lost their lives in various ways during the wai-. 
Beyond a doul)t Nantucket |iaid as dearly for the in- 
dcjicndencc of the counti-y as any place in the I'nion. 



286 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 



CHAPTER XXII. 

Sea-Girt Nantucket. 



NANTUCKET IN WAR OF 1812. 

lij 1812. the iiifringeineiits of the English un uiir 
rights still continued, and our government appeared 
to be preparing for wai-. Unfortunately, the Nan- 
tiu-ket peoj^le had cherished the belief that war 
would be avertetl. and under this impression had 
iitted out their shi|)s. In April the government laid 
an embargo, to l)e of three months' duration; this 
was designed to give an opportunity for the ship- 
j)ing to arrive before w;ii" w;is (b'chired. iind to pre- 
vent vessels in port from venturing out. 11;hI tiie 
tii'st endtai-go ;u't extended to whaling vessels, iiuieli 
of the pro|)erty of the isbind wcuiKl htive been s;ived. 
A town nu'eting was hebl to consider the exj)edieney 
of sending a memorial 1o ('oiigress. stMting their 
situMtion and circumstances. The nu'inorial was 
sent (Macy, p. 1H2, ) and in it the petitioners gave "a 
retrospective view" of their losses and privations 
during the war of the Revolution, nnd represe:jited 
the exposed situation of the isl.intl. also stating the 
fact "tiiat seven-eighths of the mercantile capital is 
now Mt sea. three-fourths of which is not expected 
to return within twelve months from the present 
date." In c(»nclusi()n the ]>etitioners prayed tluit a 
declaration of war might be averted. This memorial 
was signed l)y Isaac CofMn. .Moderat(U', and -lames 
Coffin, Town Clerk. (.Macy. p. lb.'!.) 



NANTUCKET IN WAR OF 1812. 287 

AVar Wcis ^ItM-lju-ed on .Jiiiit' "i4th, 181:!. Tlu' people 
of Nantuc'lvet were then greatly diseom-iiged and np- 
l)rehensive of the worst, remeniheriiio^ their experi- 
ences in the Revolutionary war. X<» avenue of re- 
lief seemed visible. In their despair they resorted 
to a memorial to President Aladison. askinjjr for pro- 
tection. This appears to have been without effect. 
On Sept. 27th of the same year another ct>mmittee 
was appointed to bear a petition to A<lmiral 
Cochrane, of the British fleet, asking his i)ermissioii 
to obtain supplies of food and fuel from the con- 
tinent. The committee were well received, and 
Cochrane expressed a friendly feeling for the Xan- 
tucket people, and sent a despatch to Commodore 
Hotham advising him to grant the indulgence, pro- 
vided the islanders agreed to pay no direct taxes 
oi' internal duties foi- the support of the I'. S. ( }ov- 
ernment; otherwise the intlulgence should become 
void, and the people should pay double the amount 
of the taxes to the British Government. Thus the\ 
found themselves "between the devil arul the deep 
.sea." in this emergency a meeting was called to 
determine wliat aetlon should be talieii. It was 
voted "that no taxes-or ititernai reveiuie should- be 
paid to the Government during the war. and that a 
committee be ap])ointed to carry into effect the 
neutrality, which is agreeil on with Commodore 
Ilotham." The privilege thus obtained aft'orded re- 
lief for a brief time, but the coast was so invested 
with British privateers that it was still extremely 
ha/.aiHlous for vessels to venture out. The situation 
was I'eudered hai'der by internal jealousies, caused 
b\' the conditions of the grant of indularence. 



288 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

On Fel)ni<ii'y 2(1. ISl-t. ;i treaty of peac-e Avas pro- 
claimed, and on February IStli it was ratitied. Nat- 
urally this event brought great joy to the people. It 
was found at the close of the war that about one- 
half of the Avhaling tioet were left. Twenty-two had 
been taken and condemned, one was lost at sea. 
Business Avas commenced with alacrity. In a very 
short time several ships were sent to sea. but the 
limited amount of capital reniaining made a system 
of long credits lUM-essai'y. which condition greatly 
impede(l thcii' progress. The town was called ui)(>n 
to pay large amounts to the Government as a direct 
tax. It was also heavily l)urdened with the support 
of the dependent i)Oor. Avhose nund^ers had increased 
100 ])(>r cent, during the war. Great sufifering Avas 
experienced for several years after the war. and the 
recovery was very slow. ^Many of th? peo])le Avere 
compelled to migrate to other places. AA'here the c(m- 
ditions of life mig^lit be more favorable. 



N4RS. McCLEAVE AND HER MUSEUM. 289 



CHAPTER XXllI. 

Sea-Girt Nantucket. 

MRS. McCLEAVE AND HER MUSEUM. 

For many summers this truly remarkable woman 
presided over her museum in ^fain street, giving 
daily lectures to the throngs who assembled to see 
and hear. 

Her discourse was (•oi)iously interlarded with pas- 
sages of descrii)tive "poetry.'' These were supposed 
to be of her own composition, Init after her demise 
it was darkly hinted that a certain "Silas Wegg," 
who Avas wont to ■'dro]i into poetry in a friendly 
Avay" was really the "poet." Like Shakespeare, 
''Lizy Ann"' is doubted by some in these days; but 
there Avas never a shade of doubt about her skill in 
reciting the "])oems." Here are samples: 

"This old shell ('Onib, though not as old as Noah, 
Yet, wheu fifteen, my sister Phebe wore; 
She Morked very hard to gratif}' her passion. 
And Avhen the cost was earned, 'twas out of fashion." 

"This glass tankard, tho' not a hundred years, 
Grandmother 's gift, as the case apjiears. 
The pound of putty daubed throughout is meant 
To serve for use as well as ornament. ' ' 

' ' These are aslies, supposed to be 
"Which fell on various ships at sea." 



290 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

"These musk-ox liorus just seven feet ten from end to end they 
measure ; 
Look up and view them at your pleasure." 

THE CEDAR VASE. 

(Holding it at arm's length and carefully lifting the napkin 
which covered it.) 

■'This vase of which we take in contemplation 
Merits, friends, your studious observation. 
Since, but for Cousin Thomas Macy's enterjwise, 
This feast would not be set before your eyes. 
So listen, friends, while I at once advance 
To tell the truth with pleasing circumstance. 
'Twas Saturday morn, the busiest day of all. 
When Cousin Thomas upon me called. 
And with a grace that could not be denied 
Invited me to take a morning ride. 
Across the liall with throbbing heart I skipped, 
Took out my pies and soon was all ecjuipped. 
The horse with speed across the commons vaulted. 
And very soon at Cherry Grove we halted. 
Our purpose, friends, I trust you '11 call it good, 
Was to get a nice smooth piece of cedar wood. 
One hundred and twenty-seven years and souml 
Was that same ])ost set firm within tlie ground. 
Cousin Thomas took a liasty \"iew. 
Then seized tlie saw to cut the stick in two. 
He sa^^ed and sawed through many a knot till tired. 
And very freely all the time perspired. 
The sun was out and never shone so hot. 
The saw was dull and tough that monstrous knot. 
I offered help but met with firm resistarue, 
For Cousin then refused all assistance. 
The piece, perhaps in length two feet. 
Was brought to Reuben Folger's shop on Orange street. 
He took the knotty stick within his hands. 
And wrought the vase which now before you stands. 
I thank thee, Cousin Thomas, for thy gift. 



MRS. McCLEAVE AND HER MUSEUM. 291 

And oft uiy thankful heart I lift, 

And ere my gratitude can fall away 

The firm revolving planets must decay. ' ' 
The last stanza of another poem: 
' ' I think much praise belongs to the one 
Who worked the wood so well begun, 
For it is some trouble, as I am told. 
To work out such pieces to make them hold. 
Therefore, Friend Folger. much credit to tliee 
Will ever be remembered by Eliza Ann McCleave." 

Oceasionally. to relieve tlie strain. Lizy Ann Avonld 
lapse into prose. Taking np two small figures, she 
would remark: '"Now. friends, take notice of these 
figures: one is Caesar, the otlier iJrntus. I've for- 
gotten whieh is wliich: Mary Lizzie, tell nie. whirh 
of these two ^ot slewed.'"" 

It is worthy of note th;d this famous artist had an 
understudy, who became almost her e((ual in skill. 

It is only justice to ]\[rs. ]\IcCleave to state that 
the cousiderable sums of money received by her dur- 
ing a long career were used f(U' the relief of those 
dependent upon her. 



292 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

Scraps. 

A MASTER MARINEK. 

Visitors to this weather-])eateii old town who have 
explored its ]\Iain street as far Avestward as the 
Soldiers' Moiiuineiit will i'ccmII tin- lypieal old gray 
luansion standiiiii- on the corner of Main and Gard- 
ner Streets, whieh l)ears over its door the inserip- 
tion, "Reuben Joy Homestead."' Old residents, 
when appeahnl to for information, will tell you that 
('apt. Joy was oni^ of the numerous master mariners, 
who, in x\antu(']\(*t 's palmy days, were wont to sail 
A'oyages eovering from three to foui-ycMi's (nidi, beat- 
ing the vast Paeihe for wluilcs. 

Reuben .Joy was born at Xantuckd -Ian. 4, 176!). 
While still a youtii he entered iijion a sea life, and 
must have saih^l in one of the tirst whalers from 
Xantueket that ]ieiiet rated to the Paeitic Oeean. Cer- 
tain it is tliat soon afttM- the advent of th(> nineteenth 
century li(> sailed from Nantucket. in;is1er of the 
ship Atlas, for a wluiling voyage. 

Tile following account of some of ("apt. Joy's 
exploits fit stni wjis given by his gr;iiidsoii. Charles H. 
Chase, ag(Hl (SO, blind for many years, but i-etaining 
vivid memories of bygone^ eveuts ;ind of stories told 
him by his grandfather. 

It was dui-iug CM])t. -loy's tirst voyage as master 



SCRAPS. 293 

of the Athis tliat "iK' fell in with (';i[)t. Tristram Kol- 
ger, also of Xaiitueket, in the ship Mary Ami. Ou 
arriving at the whaling grounds the two skippers 
decided to "gam" (mate) together, hoth as to busi- 
ness and to pleasure, and one day when a school of 
whales Avas sighted, boats from i»oth ships put out 
in i)ursuit, and the combined fleet attacked a large 
whale. 

He proved to be what is known as an " eating- 
whale," and on being struck, instead of making off 
with the line fast to him, after the usual procedure 
of struck whales, he turned toward the ship, made 
a savage lunge at her, and attempted to seize her 
in his mouth. The Atlas proving too large a mouth- 
ful, he then turned upon the boats, and quickly dis- 
abled two, the crews narrowly escaping his jaws. 

"I guess we'll have to give him up," said Capt. 
Folger. 

"Give him up," i-epeatcd Capt. Joy. "I wall 
catch that Avhale iniless he eats the ship, in which 
(latter) case I shall leave her to the underwriters." 

Returning to the ship, Capt. Joy put overboard 
several large oil casks, which he lashed together. 
Again putting out his boat he pushed the floating- 
casks in the whale's direction. The latter seeing 
this queer craft approaching him, made for it in a 
rage, but found the casks too slippery and elusive 
for his clumsy jaws. Still more enraged he darted 
back and forth, bent on mischief. Capt. Joy coolly 
standing, lance in hand, at the bow of the boat, 
waited for a favorable opportunity and sent his. 
lance deep into the monster's vitals. The whale at 



294 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

once dove out of sight, but soon rose to tlie surface 
- — dead. 

On Aug. 5, 1805, ('apt. Joy sailed in the Atlas on 
a second voyage, wliich covered thirty months. It 
was during this voyage that tlie Atlas narrowly 
eseaped eapture l)y a British frigate. At that time 
many American ships were overhauled by British 
men-of-war and their crews pressed into the English 
service. 

When the lookout aloft sighted the frigate's top- 
masts, he gave the alarm, and the Atlas was at once 
put before the wind, with all sail set, and was barely 
able to keep out of range of the enemy's guns until 
darkness fell. She was then braced up on the wnnd, 
all sail except three topsails furled, and lights ex- 
tinguished. In this condition she lay Avhen the 
frigate, still in hot pursuit, passed her in the dark- 
ness, within a short distance, luckily failing to dis- 
cover her hiding place. 

It Avas still early in the nineteenth century that 
three ship owners of Salem, Mass., Capt. Stephen 
AVhite, Nathaniel West, and Clifford Crowninshield 
— after sundry unprofitable ventures — determined to 
stake their available resources on a sealing voyage 
to Masafuera. For this enterprise the ship ^linerva 
Avas fitted out and Capt. Mayhew Folger of Nan- 
tucket was offered her command. He replied: ''I 
know nothing of sealing, but if you can induce 
Reuben Joy to go mate (he knows all about seal- 
ing), I'm your man." 

Capt. Joy was appealed to, and was willing, but 
when asked by Mr. West if he Avould undertake to 



SCRAPS. 295 

eatcli, cure and deliver at Cantou, China — then the 
leading market for skins — 50,000 sealskins, he said; 
"No, if I didn't think I could get 70,000, I wouldn't 
undertake the A-oyage." 

The owners readily consented to this amendment, 
and the ^linerva set sail with Capt. Folger in com- 
mand. Keuben Joy, first mate; Christopher Wyer, 
second mate. In due time the ship arrived at 
Masafuera, an island in the Paeifie where seals then 
abounded. Capt. Joy and thirty of the crew Avere 
set ashore and at once made a vigorous onslaught 
upon the seal colony. 

At a result, no less than 87,000 skins were secured 
and deposited aboard ship. These were carefully 
cured, and the ship proceeded on her voyage to 
Canton. At that port the whole cargo was profitably 
disposed of. and tlie ship was loaded with what was 
then known as a "China cargo," made up of the 
various products of that country. The .Minerva 
then sailed for home. While oflt' tlie Ladrone 
Islands, she was approached by a native proa, whose 
rig clearly proclaimed her piratical intentions. Capt. 
Folger, in great alarm, appealed to his mate: 

"What shall we do, -Mr. Joy? I don't know any- 
thing about fighting." 

"I do," was Mr. Joy's characteristic response. 
"If you will give the ship up to me, I will save her." 

To this Capt. Folger readily agreed, and the ship 
was hove to, with main yard aback and light sails 
taken in. Like many of the whalers of that period, 
the Minerva was prepared for emergencies. She 
had eight ports on each side, and from the star- 



296 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

board side, uow presented to the approaching proa_, 
protruded eight 24-ponnd eannon— her entire arma- 
ment — duly loaded lor action. 

The pirates took a hasty survey of their intended 
prey, and without waiting for further argument, 
sailed away in search of an easy victim. 

"Well, well, Mr. Joy," said ('apt. P^lger, "that 
was what I called a Quaker battle." 

Witliout further adventure the good ship sailed 
away for home, safely arriving in Salem with her 
valuable cargo, much to tlie satisfaction of her 
owners. 

In his declining years, having abandoned the sea, 
Capt. Joy set up a modest store in the lean-to of 
his homestead, from whicli he dispensed groceries, 
snuff, pipes and tol)acco and other necessities of 
life, after the manner of many retired mariners of 
those days. He was ever regarded as a man of 
strict integrity and indomitable resolution. iJcneath 
a stern and uncompromising aspect and a brusque 
address, he liad a warm lieart wliich was often moved 
to generous impulses. He dejjarted this life in 1855 
at the age of 86. Seven of his grandchildren and 
many greatgrandchildren are still living. One of his 
granddaughters — famous in her youth as one of Nan- 
tucket's beauties — is the widow of a Governor of 
Massachust^ts. 



SCRAPS. 297 

FEE-RASH FEESH ! 

While we are having local history served up, with 
Sauce piquant (, I am moved to wonder how many of 
my contemporaries of fifty to sixty yeai-s ago still re- 
call, as I do vividly, the cries of the Nantucket fish 
peddlers of that period. Each of these worthies gen- 
erally carried his stock in a wheelbarrow, painted 
green, with a squeaky wheel. At regular intervals, 
in passing through a street, he would announce his 
approach with a brief "cry" after the immemorial 
usage of peddlers. 

The burden of tliis •cry" was uuich the same in 
each case, varying only with the special variety of 
fish carried. But tlie manner of each artist in deliver- 
ing it also varied widely, according to voice and 
tem]>erament. 

Let us imagine: It is a bright spring morning, a 
sound strikes my ear, at first faint and far, but 
growing louder as it draws nearer. It is a familiar 
note, for it is the voice of Joe Jenkins, and the burden 
of his strain is to this effect: "Fra-a-sh Feesh oo 
bar."' This, delivered at intervals in a siptilchral 
tone, might convey to the casual stranger (rare bird 
in that day) the impression tliat a fvineral annoufice- 
ment had been made. 

But we knew better. It was "Feesh" — f crash un- 
til sold. We bought one, of course, for, say, ten or 
fifteen cents, and the process of "cleaning" then be- 
gan. The operator caught up a wicked looking knife 
(made, of course, by the picturescjue Uncle George, 
or the quaint Uncle Fred — he of the sardonic humor) . 
The shining victim was swiftly ripped up and divested 



298 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

of his bac'k-boue and other in ward appurttiiauccs 
(tliey being of no furtlier use to him), he was then 
l)liingecl into a tub of water, which was generally 
thiek witii the l)]ood of the martyrs, his forerunners. 
One or two dips, and he was "cleaned,'' and was 
then deposited in the waiting pan. We had appetites 
in tliose days, and "feesh"" was clieap. 

But here comes Obed Jones, with his wheelbarrow. 
His announcement has a trifle more of ornamental 
tiourish. and is in a more cheerful tone that his pre- 
decessor's. "He-e-yarp, he-e-yard-ari), fee-rash feesli- 
oo-barl" This form. I may say, with its neat and 
not too elaborate tinisli, was, in fact, the one generally 
accepted and used by the fish-peddlers of that day. 
It was delivered (in varying tones) by them for 
years. Naturally, slight variations were in order, 
according to individual talent and temperament. 
Some thought it too ornate, suggestive of affectation, 
so reduced it to the form first described. This con- 
veyed the impression that there is "no nonsense about 
me." — Feesh-oo-bar, and there you are I 

Of a different make up was Uncle Sammy Long, 
whose stock in trade was the limber and succulent 
eel, caught with his own spear up the crik. Uncle 
Sammy Avas an artist in a class all by himself. Can't 
you hear his far-reaching, mellifluous voice. Bob, 
Will, Dick, Frank? Don't all speak at once! It 
could be heard half across the town, and no one 
could ignore it, however thick of hearing. Uncle 
Sammy's message was simply, ''Here's your fresh 
eels — who buys!" But how utterly inadequate are 
the plain words to convey all that he gave out ! Be- 



SCRAPS. 299 

ginuiug at a low ki'v, with a lung-drawii ""He-e-e-e, " 
his voice would suddenly soar heavenward, like the 
sky-rocket, reaching — shall I say, the high C? This 
note was long maintained, on "ars-your-fresh,'' fall- 
ing a few kej's to ■'eels," and finishing with a low — 
prolonged •"Who-o-o-o, (very low); l)uy-y-y-ys!" ' 
(little higher). But, as I have said, words are empty, 
and convey little meaning as applied to Unele 
Sammy's solo. 

Occasionally the goods offered by these merchants, 
as the season changed, took the form of bivalves. 
Oysters? Scallops? Oh, no! These were undis- 
covered luxuries. It was either plain '"Clams-oo- 
bar ! " or (is the word familiar to you ?) ' ' Pooquahs ! ' ' 
These bivalves were generally carried in a basket on 
the arm of the merchant. Probably some of you have 
heard the story of the stuttering sailor, who, when 
his shipmate fell from the yard arm into the sea, 
hastened to announce the calamity to the skipper. 
''B-b-b-b-barnabas— f-f-f-f— " '^ell," says the 
impatient skipper, '"out with it, Tom!" Whereat 
Tom piped up in a liigh tenor, "0-o-overboard Bar- 
nabas — three mile astarn of us!" So the present 
writer, realizing the limitations of his prose efforts, 
asks the indulgence of his readers while he "drops 
into poetry,'' of course in a most "friendly way." 

' ' POURQUOI ! ' ' 

Lofig, long ago iu a seaport town 
A sad -faced man trudged up and dowTi. 
His back was bent; his gait was queer; 
His whiskers reached from ear to ear. 
A basket on his arm he bore, 



300 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

Tluit (lid c-oiit;iiii bis piei-ioiis store. 
"What are thy wares;"' a stranger cried. 
He slackened not his slipshod stride, 
But kept his course nor' east l>y nor,' 
Then rolled his quid around his Jaw, 
And weirdly chanted he 
' ' Poofjuah ! " 

"Oui, nioTi ami I '' the stranger said, 
"I really do not grasp thy thread. 
But by thy accent it is clear 
Thou hast not long sojourned here. 
Pardonnez-moi, my name is 'Arris, 
And I once spent three months in Paris; 
Art thou an exile from the land 
That was Napoleon's empire grand?" 
But when that stranger man he saw, 
He slightly wa\ed his nianinioth ]'aw. 
Intoning solemnly 

' ' Pooquah I ' ' 

"Well mayst thou ask «•//.// cruel fate 
Hath brought thee to this low estate; 
Canst thou sweet memories report 
Of scenes at fair Eugenie's court? 
Perchance some souvenir thou hast 
To mind thee of thy glorious past. 
If this at moderate price thou 'It sell. 
My foreign friend, 'twill please me well." 
He slowly ope'd his lantern jaw: 
"Some likes 'em biled — some likes 'em raw." 
Then loudly bellowed he, 
' ' Pooquah ! ' ' 

H. S. W. 



SCRAPS. 301 

HUMOKS OF ELECTION DAY IX OLD 
NANTLX'KET. 

As a rule election day is devoid ol' great excite- 
ment, except among the tew candidates and their 
zealous followers. But it happens occasionally that 
the day is enlivened by the strenuous efforts of op- 
posing candidates for Representative to the General 
Court. At such times many vehicles, attached to 
more or less weary steeds, flit about town in search 
of aged, decrepit or lazy voters who are supposed to 
be unequal to tlie effort of ten minutes' walk to the 
polling place. In passing, it may be observed that 
these venerable voters are not always to l)e depended 
on to "vote right," onee tliey reach the seelusion of 
a stall, with the Australian ballot l)et'ore them. 

On one election day not many years since an es- 
timable lady was sitting by hei- front window, "'see- 
ing the pass,'' as the vernatnUar lias it. when sudden- 
ly a team of raw-])oned horses, attached to Lisha 
Pinkham's ancient hack, wliirled around the Ocean 
House corner at an unwonted i)aee (funerals being- 
their usual sjieeialty). As this imposing turnout 
came Avithin the vision of the lady at the window, 
her attention was drawn to a placard attached to 
the side of the hack, bearing the inscription, "Vote 
for Dr. C. for Representative." A second later the 
"amiable warming pan" face of Uncle Steve Hussey, 
the veteran cobbler, appeared at the window of the 
hack, his mouth dcawn in an exi)ansive thiMigh tight- 
lipped smile, indicative of his vast enjoyment of his 
wild ride. As the hack came opposite the lady's 
house, a dark ol).iect — in fact, two dark objects — 



302 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

were seen to t\y out from its windows, as tliough })ro- 
jected from a mortar. As they lauded on the side- 
Avalk, it became evident that they were nothing more 
or Jess than a pair of hidy's shoes, newly soled and 
heeled, which the lady at the window at once recog- 
nized as her own. The hack sped on its way, bearing 
Uncle Steve in trinniph to his home up North Shore. 
A newly-wedded couple who, being off-islanders, 
were unaccustomed to local usages, saw the pair of 
shoes land on the sidewalk, but not perceiving whence 
they came, stood amazed at the strange spectacle. 
"0, look, dearie," says the bride. "It rains shoes 
out of a clear sky in Nantucket ! " 

H. S. W. 



SCRAPS. 



303 



BILL OF FARE ON SHIP WM. HENRY. YEAR 17U1. 



'-F„ 



('15 Men 

J 13 Women 
1 2 Youths above 10 ' 
\ 13 Children under 10 at half ditto 

43 Souls 



II allowance 30 

6 1-2 



36 1-2 full rations 





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days 
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days 
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lbs. lbs. 


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gal. 


Bush 


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Ship'd. 


1120, 


832 1120 


2150 1061 


980 133 


320 


570i 15 




32, 


12J 



Breakfast 



WEEKLY BILL OF FARE. 

Dinner 



Supper 
Indian Meal 



Indian Meal Sunday, Poric with Pease 

with molasses Monday, Fish with Potatoes & Butter with molasses 

every day so long Tuesday, Beef, with Bread &c. every day so lono 

as it lasts. Wednesday, Fish with Potatoes & Butter as it lasts. 

Afterwards Rice Thursday, Beef with Bread &c. Afterwards Rice 

with sugar. Friday, Fish with Potatoes & Butter with su^ar 
Saturday, Fish with do do 



Rur 



Wir 



20 1 -2 Gallons, Being 42 days allowance at half a gill per day for 
each person above 1 years. 

None to be used for the first 21 days, unless for 
medicine. 
10 Galls, for medicme to the sick. 
Vinegar. 32 Galls, for washing and cleaning between decks, to be used as 

occasion may require. 
Bohea Tea. 3 pounds, for the Sick only. 
Windsails. One to be landed at Sierra Leone. 

Tobacco Stems. 70 pounds for Fumigations, twice a week after getting into 
Warm Weather. 
The above Regulations not to be dispensed with. 

M. Wallace. Agent. 



304 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

CHAPTER XXV. 

Verse. 



A QUAKER VICTORY. 

Sheibuine, 1755. 
"Peleg Mitrliell {f:ttlun- of the late Peleg), of Nantucket, 
grand-son of .Jethio Staibuck, and great-grand-sou of Mary 
Starbuek, relates the circumstances described to him by his 
motlier and others, concerning her father, Jethro Starbuek, and 
his brother Nathaniel, which occurred during a former war 
between the French ;iud Anu^vicaus. " | Here follows the ac- 
count.] 

Now list _ve, hardy sailoi' iiieii, 

A thrilling tale ] 11 tell 
All of a liloodless victory 
That cost no shot or shell: 

'Twas back in "French and Injun" days 

A -privateer came down 
Ant] anchored in the (diannel way 

To blockade Sherburne town. 

Down came the (Quaker citizens 

And gathered on the shore : 
''Alas!"' they said, '"our wood is low — 

What sJkiII wc ilo for luoiel*' 

♦ riieii u]i spake .Tethro .Starbiuk b(d<l: 
•'A cra\en lot are ye 
That suffer this Fi'ench privateer 
Such obstacle to lie! *' 

"Well, Jethro, 'tis a grievous thing — 

Long have we ])rayed for light ; 
Now tell wliat thou would 'st have us do — 

Thou surely would not figlit!" 



VERSE. 305 

" Xay, nol one drop of blood we'll spill, 

But, friends, I have a plan 
To capture that same privateer 

And pinion ever,v man!" 

' ' Just give me Obed Pinkham 's slooji. 

And forty men for crew. 
All armed with common kitchen-moj s — 

Thou 'It see what I w ill do 1 ' " 

Eight bells had struck — all yet was still 

Aboard the privateer, 
When suddenly the watchman spied 

A vessel drawing near: 

•'Ahoy — Ahoy there! Come about 

Quick, or we '11 open fire ! ' ' 
But still the old sloop kept her course, 

And silently drew nigher. 

Boom went the gun — across their bow 

A ten-pound shot was dropped, 
And straight behind the binnacle 

In haste old Jethro popped. 

"Aha!" said brother Xat. to him — 

' ' And wilt thou prove a coward ? ' ' 
" Xot so," quoth he. "good men are scane, 

(lO, take thy station forward;" 

"Call up the crew — stand ready all 

To grapple at her side. 
Then every man will seise his mop 

And dip it 'neath the tide!" 

The moment came^they lea])t aboard ; 

More quick than tongue can tell, 
Upon that hapless foreign r-vew 

A sudden blindness fell. 



306 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

They staggered, gasping hard for breath — - 

All ill a helpless })light, 
And quick as flash old Jethro 's crew 

Bound every Frenchman tight. 

Then Jethro lit his pipe and said 
' ' Now, brother, who 's thy coward f 

Go, get thee aft and stand the watch, 
I'll muster all hands forward!" 

Then did those Frenchmen weep and wail 

And beg for liberty. 
But Jethro, frowning, shook his head: 

"Too good for such as thee!" 

"Such wicked, vile, blood-thirsty men 
Good freedom would be lost on ; 

Thy vessel is our lawful prise — 
We '11 send thee up to Boston ! ' ' 

H. S. W. 



THE ALARMED SKIPPER. 



"It was an Ancient Mariner." 



Many a long, long year ago, 
Nantucket skippers had a plan 
Of finding out, though "lying low," 
How near New York their schooners ran. 



They greased the lead before it fell. 
And then, by sounding through the night. 
Knowing the soil that stuck, so well. 
They always guessed their reckoning right. 



VERSE. 307 

A skipper gray, whose eyes were dim. 
Could tell, by Uistiny, just the spot, 
Aud so below he 'd ' ' dowse the glim, " " — 
After, of course, his ''something hot." 

Snug in his lierth, at eight o'clock, 
This ancient skipper might be found; 
No matter how his craft would rock, 
He slept, — for skippers' naps are sound! 

The watch on deck would now and then 
Run down and wake him, with the lead ; 
He'd up, and taste, and tell the men 
How many miles they went ahead. 

One night, 'twas Jotham Marden 's watch, 
A curious wag, — the peddler 's son,- — 
And so he mused (the wanton wretch), 
''To-night I'll have a grain of fun.'' 

"We're all a set of stupid fools 
To think the skipper knows by tasting 
What ground he's on, — Nantucket schools 
Don 'r teach s\ich stuff, with all their bastingi " 

And so he took the well-greased lead 
.•\nd rubbed it o'er a box of earth 
That stood on deck, — a parsnip-bed, — 
And then he sought the skipjier's berth. 

"Wheie are we now, sir? Please to taste." 
The skipper yawned, put out his tongue. 
Then oped his eyes in wondrous haste, 
And then upon the floor he sprung! 

The skijiper stormed, and tore his hair, 
Thrust on his boots, and roared to Marden. 
'' Xaiitiicket's .svnk, and here we are 
h'if/hl over old Mann Haekett's garden!'^ 

Jas. T. Fields. 



308 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

THE HARPER. 



Old Ocean's stormy ])anier passed, 
The Harper gained the beach at last ; 
He seized his harp, he leaped ashore; 
He played his wild refrain once more, 
The same old sixpence, tu and tu, 
Echoed the shores of bleak Coatue; 

'Twas tu I can 't, and tu I can, 
All the way to shearing pen. 

Onward, but not unheeded, went 
The Harper old; his form was bent, 
His doublet wool, his hose were tow, 
His pantaloons were cut so, so ; 
The people gaj«d, the coofs admired. 
And many stranger things transpired; 
Coppers from many a hand were wrung, 
As, wading through the sand, he sung, — 

'Tis tu I can 't, and tu I can, 

All the way to shearing pen. 

'Twas just midway of all the year. 

When flowers and fleeces first appear, 

When grass is grown, when sheep are sheared 

When lilies, like a lady 's hand, 

Their scented jetals first expand; 

When flowery June was in her teens, 

Tlie Harper, 'mid his favorite scenes, 

Played tu I can 't, and tu I can, 

All the way to shearing pen. 

The streets aie passed, the plain is reached. 
Whose uniqueness was ne'er impeached, 
Dearer to him than Marathon, 
Or any plain beneath the sun ; 
Dearer by far than hymns or j»salms. 
The bleatings of those new-shorn lambs; 



VERSE. 309 

Dearer than all that homespun strain 
The Harper wildly sings amain, — 

'Tis tu I fan 't, and tu I can, 

All the way to shearing pen. 

The Harper seats him 'neath a tent, 

Made of a mainsail, patched and rent; 

The curious folk, of every hue. 

Looked on as though they'd look him through; 

He signijSes his calm intent 

To drink — of the liquid element; 

He eats a large three-cornered bun; 

And then, his slight refection done. 

He takes his harp, and plays again 

The same mysterious wild refrain, — 

'Tis tu I can 't, and tu I can, 

All the way to shearing pen. 

Soon as the Harper old appeared, 

A ring was formed, a space was cleared; 

Three ladies, clad in spotless white. 

Three gentlemen, all dandies quite. 

Impatient for the dance, are seen 

On the brown-sward, some call it green. 

No light fantastic toes belong 

To any of the joyous throng, 

They're all prepared to reel it strong; 

The Harper rosins well his bow, — 

His A'ery catgut 's in a glow. 

With tu I can't and tu I can. 

All the way to shearing pen. 

The sheep are sheared, the reel is done. 

The Harper back to Coofdom gone; 

My lay is closed, you'll think it meet; 

Pleasures are always short when sweet; 

'Twas so when first the world began, ' 

'Twill be so when the world is done. 



310 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET. 

Who was the Harper? what his strain? 

Wait till you hear him play again, — 
'Tis tu I can 't, and tu I can, 
All the way to shearing pen. 



3844. 



Charles F. Briggs. 



' ' SIT CLOSER, FRIENDS. ' ' 



(Written by the late Arthur Macy, a native of Nantucket, after 
attending the funeral of Col. W. L. Chase, representing the Papyrus 
Club.) 



Sit closer, friends, around the board! 

Death grants us yet a little time. 
Now let the cheering cup be poured, 

And welcome song and jest and rhyme. 
Enjoy the gifts that fortune sends. 
Sit closer, friends! 

And yet, we pause. With trembling lij) 
We strive the fitting phrase to make; 

Remembering our fellowship, 
Lamenting Destiny's mistake, 

We marvel much when Fate oft'ends, 
And claims our friends. 

Companion of our nights of mirth! 

Where all were merry who were wise; 
Does Death quite understand your worth, 

And know the value of his prize? 
I doubt me if he comprehends — 
He knows no friends. 

And in that realm is there no joy 
Of comrades and the jocund sense? 

Can Death so utterly destroy — 

For gladness grant no recompense? 

And can it be that laughter ends 
With absent friends? 



VERSE. 311 



O scholars! whom we wisest call, 

Who solve great questions at your ease, 

We ask the simplest of them all, 
And yet you caunot answer these! 

And is it thus your knowledge ends, 
To comfort friends? 

Dear Omar, should You chance to meet 
Our Brother Somewhere in the Gloom, 

PvF.y give to Him a Message sweet. 
From Brothers in the Tavern Room. 

lie will not ask Who 'tis that sends. 
For We were friends. 

Again a parting sail we see; 

Another boat has left the shore. 
A kinder soul on board has she 

Than ever left the land before. 
And as her outward course she bends, 
Sit closer, friends! 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



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